


& Such

by bushlaboo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Episode Related, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Crack, Guilt, Implied sexy times, Inspired by a Movie, Introspection, SOTY, Sexy Times, Speculation, Summer of Olicity, Summer of Unbearable Tension Part Deux, Unrequited Crush, Warm and Fuzzy Feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-08
Updated: 2017-01-11
Packaged: 2018-04-08 08:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 32
Words: 22,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4297470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bushlaboo/pseuds/bushlaboo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A place to house my <em>Arrow</em> drabbles and snippets, which will mostly be little character vignettes. [Should it be necessary in the future I will up the rating and add warnings and tags.]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It’s Not Friday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It wasn’t a slip of his tongue, it was a deliberate choice.

He'd gotten it wrong on purpose. He’d knowingly changed it from Friday to Wednesday, though Felicity had either been too mad to realize it or perhaps she did not recall that they had met on a Wednesday.

Oliver did not let himself dwell on what it could mean that he remembered all the little details of his first consultation with Felicity. When he had walked into her office she had been just a highly recommended name, one he was certain his last name would convince to give him the assistance he needed with no questions asked.

It hadn't worked out that way. He had caught her off guard and in doing so been exposed to his first ever Felicity Smoak babble face-to-face. It was after her "I said not notice, right?" faux pas that he placed the babbling IT genius as the same girl he'd heard talking to herself when he had broken into Queen Consolidated for Waller. But she had caught him unprepared as well with her sunshine hair, fast moving mouth, adorable head tilt and skeptical look when he offered the pathetic lie that his coffee shop was in a bad neighborhood. For the first time in years he saw a _person_ and not a threat.

Perhaps if she hadn't been so bright herself, the memory would have faded and he wouldn't have kept going back; but each time he saw her the world seemed lighter somehow, filled with possibilities instead of hazards.

That innocuous Wednesday had changed his life. So Felicity was his Girl Wednesday, and _always_ would be.


	2. Absorbing Smoak

He had always been a tactile person. It went beyond his hands-y reputation, which admittedly he earned; but in high school the only classes he aced were woodshop, PE, and home economics. Not that he admitted to the latter as Tommy would have taken too much pleasure in mocking him endlessly if anyone had known. Of course since Felicity looked into his school records, Oliver was certain she knew that he had some skill in the kitchen. If there was one person that he wanted to know all the little and big things, all the good and bad, _everything_ about him it was Felicity.

There were still things he was afraid for her to know about, like his time in Russia; after everything they’d been through – him pushing her away, working with Merlyn, and his less than ideal plan to take out Ra’s – it was hard to fathom that she was still with him. That she _chose_ him. That she _loved_ him.

It was foolish to worry that after all that Felicity would wash her hands of him and walk away. He knew better. That wasn’t who she was or who they were together. Still the fear was there; the fear that one day his accumulated sins would finally reach a point that would make her realize that he truly was not worthy of her. Basically, he was waiting on the straw to break the camel’s back. Most of the time he could push that fear far away and be in the present with her, taking in the world anew as they explored it together.

When that fear could not be silenced and it got the better of him, he had to touch her. _Everywhere_. With his eyes, fingers and lips he’d mapped her, memorizing her … just in case he lost the right to touch her freely. He’d revel in the breathy moans she’d release every time he nuzzled her collarbone, the giggle that escaped whenever he caressed the back of her left knee, the way her lips turned up slightly when he placed his hand on the small of her back.

He soaked in the details that made up Felicity Smoak and they’d wash away the fear.


	3. Extra, Extra Strength

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity on "aspirin" at the end of 'Time of Death' has always been one of my favorite things, along with the Diggle/Felicity relationship. This is a little two for one special combining two of my favorite _Arrow_ -related things.

She was going to have her own scar. A _visible_ scar and not just some sutures way in the back of her mouth that no one could see; not that her bullet wound – and oh, how she’d always wanted to be able to say she’d taken a bullet for someone (had she said that out loud?) – would be detectable all the time. Most of her dresses and blouses would cover it based on the slight pull she felt while Sara patched her up. Bathing suits and her birthday suit, Felicity giggled slightly at the thought – birthday suit was such an odd phrasing for naked, nude, unclothed, in the buff – though that’s when her scar would probably be most conspicuous. Of course with the extreme care Sara was taking, she doubted how much of a scar she’d have. Only time would tell – tempus fugit.

“Are you sure you don't want to go to the hospital?” Oliver asked. It took a moment for the question to register as Felicity was trying to work out why he and Dig were standing with their backs to her. That wasn’t usual. And were they spinning or was there something wrong with the Foundry lights?

“Nuh uh,” she finally replied, the sound feeling strange as it passed across her lips. “You guys never go to the hospital. Besides, Dig gave me some of those aspirins. Are you spinning?” She closed her eyes to the effect and concentrated on her love for John Diggle to try and focus her mind. She didn’t love him just because he gave her the best aspirin in the world, but because he treated her like a beloved, yet capable little sister. Having never had a sibling and secretly wanting one – she’d been inclined to have a brainiac little sister to help her take over the world, _technologically_ that is, she had no urge to be a super-villain like Malcolm Merlyn – she was grateful she ended up with a strong, protective but encouraging big brother. Brothers, she decided, were the best, especially if they could all be like Dig and hand out little white pills that made you feel floaty when you got shot.

And that had never happened before, the floaty (or being shot), and she’d taken extra strength aspirin. This must be extra, _extra_ strength aspirin. The kind not sold over the counter in stores. She wasn’t sure how Dig got ahold of them, but he was a peach for sharing them with her and she hoped he’d be willing to share a few more, because the floaty was nice.


	4. Leave Your Message After the Beep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’ve always wondered what might have gone through Oliver’s mind when he got Felicity’s message in 1.17 (The Huntress Returns), and while Olicity is my ship, I have a soft spot for McKenna and I keep hoping we’ll see her again.

He observed the missed call notice on his phone as he left McKenna’s apartment, with the stress and tension that Helena’s return had wrought over the past few days, it had been a relief to lose himself in another person. Particularly someone like McKenna Hall who shared his passion for justice, that was one of number of similarities he saw between them; they’d both been reckless in their youths and they each gone through something that had set them on their current path. After their strained first date there had been an unspoken agreement between them not to push into areas of their pasts they were not ready to share, so he hadn’t heard her story and she hadn’t pried for more details about his time on the island.

Oliver figured there would be time for that in the future, though he was still trying to work out if he could have one with anyone, let alone someone who could not know about his other identity. He wasn’t certain how long he could lie, even if only by omission, to McKenna successfully. It was a wonder that she hadn’t seen through him already – Felicity had the first time he met her – of course she had the advantage of not having her view of him colored by previous knowledge of Ollie Queen, playboy of Starling City.

Given how he chased her out of the Foundry when Helena had been there he was hesitant to check the message. He knew Dig had reached out to her, explaining the situation better than his growled order for her to leave because it was a “private thing.” The fear he felt watching Helena take in Felicity with a calculating eye pushed buttons Oliver hadn’t realized he had and he only had one insistent thought – to get Felicity as far away from Helena as possible.

Dig hadn’t indicated if Felicity expected an apology for his shortness or not and Oliver figured the message she left him would tell him if one was necessary. He was really hoping for not – he’d never been big on nor good at acts of contrition.

“Hey. I was multitasking,” her cheerful voice sounded in his ear and he felt grateful that it didn’t appear that an apology would be needed, “and intercepted a police report.” Of course she had, he thought, Felicity’s talents had allowed things to run smoother since she joined the team. “A local sporting goods store just got robbed of one high powered crossbow.” He sucked in a breath at those words. “Now, could be a crazy coincidence or your psycho ex-girlfriend, Dig’s words _not_ mine,” he wanted to let out one of the slight chuckles only Felicity seemed to wrangle from him, but the anxious feeling hadn’t left him, “is still in town …” Felicity’s voice trailed off. He heard Helena in the background before the message ended abruptly.

His heart stopped, and for one terrible moment, everything but the panic he felt fell away. It had been over an hour since she called. There was no telling what Helena could have done to her during that time. Thinking that, hot fury broke through the icy fear, and he was able to move again. He knew from his earlier conversation with Diggle that she was working late at QC since the Foundry had still be considered off limits.

Oliver punched a quick SOS message to Dig, before revving his motorcycle to life, and racing off to Queen Consolidated – towards Felicity, hoping against what the last few years had taught him, that she would be whole and safe when he got to her.


	5. Holla Back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My own answer to why Felicity was in Tommy’s text history.

He hadn’t paid her any attention in the beginning. He’d been too wrapped up in getting the club together, wooing Laurel, and trying to figure out the changes in his best friend to take serious note of the bespectacled blonde who always seemed to be around Verdant. He’d written the growing familiar face off as an Oliver Queen groupie. She wouldn’t have been the first, and from his own experience, she wouldn’t be the last.

When he found about Oliver’s secret – that his _best_ friend had been lying to him, that he was Starling’s hooded vigilante, who risked his life to take on criminals and dropped bodies in the process; well, Tommy still wondered about the fresh-faced blonde, but that curiosity was so far down the list of things that preoccupied his mind as he struggled with his shifting view of the world.

After he’d been manhandled by Oliver’s ex, Helena, and how embarrassing was it that he’d been taken down so easily by a girl whose last name wasn’t Lance? Up until then he’d been avoiding getting a good look at Oliver’s other world, but being forced into the basement of the club offered him a chance to peruse the Hood’s lair while Ollie’s bodyguard/partner in vigilante-ing wrapped his wrist. He’d taken notice of the computer setup and knew it was beyond his friend’s technological skills. He wasn’t sure about John Diggle, but the thought of having to ask about how his friend managed his secret life was galling.

He was supposed know Oliver better than anyone else. They’d grown up inseparable, and yes five years apart changed a person – _clearly_ some more than others – but when Oliver returned, Tommy thought since they were practically brothers, their bond would transcend any time or unshared experiences. Until the Vigilante had dropped his hood and revealed his face, the face of his best friend, he thought it had. Nothing hurt as much as realizing he’d been wrong. He kept his eye out for the blonde – Felicity one of the bouncers informed him – after that.

The club had been in full swing when he made his way down into the basement. He’d figured Oliver was out hunting down criminals when he didn’t answer his phone. Tommy wasn’t sure what he expected to find as he made his way down the steps, but he was not surprised to find a young blonde woman manning the computers. He saw surveillance video on the monitors and heard her clear, cheerful voice verifying that everyone was uninjured. Tommy couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but he saw her shoulders relax. “Hey Dig? Think you could stop at the deli on Madison. I feel like I might be coming down with a cold and their matzo ball soup is the best preventative medicine in the city.” Laughter rang out a moment later before she offered her thanks.

“Is there something I can help you with Mr. Merlyn?” she asked as she spun her chair to face him. Tommy could still recall her tentative smile and the hesitancy in her blue eyes. He hadn’t said much to her that first night, in fact, his response had been a glib reply about formally introducing himself to the rest of Oliver’s vigilante team. Felicity had taken it all in stride, of course, she was probably used to dealing with gruff men by that point as that seemed to be Oliver’s default setting.

Honestly, he hadn’t expected anything to come from their brief formal introduction, but as his relationship with Oliver strained, Felicity had been there and not to sell him on cutting Oliver some slack or explain away his choices. Instead, she offered a sympathetic ear, though never stood for him bashing Oliver out right.

He hadn’t been able to, or maybe it was she hadn’t let him, but as he pushed away Oliver and Laurel, Felicity stuck. Her thread moved up towards the top of his text message queue and as that happened his concern for her grew. Felicity was risking a lot to assist Oliver in his campaign to clean up Starling. Tommy tried talking to her, but she always brushed aside his very valid concerns.

It had been a while since he talked to Oliver, and frankly he had no interest in speaking with his former friend to work on things between them, but he was tempted to reach out on Felicity’s behalf. Tommy was considering how best to approach the topic with him when his assistant told him that Oliver was on his schedule for the day.


	6. "Forgiveness is divine, but never pay full price for late pizza."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit of a departure for me … pure fluff. All the domestic bliss talk at SDCC inspired this easy future fluff Team Arrow (or is that Green Arrow) drabble. Well that and I have pizza on the brain. Not that my favorite can be gotten at any pizzeria, it has to be homemade – a no sauced dough brushed gently with olive oil topped with bacon, fried garlic, caramelized onion and brussel sprouts with pecorino romano and fresh parsley. YUM.

“Mushrooms and sausage?” Thea asked, nose scrunched in distaste. “I thought Felicity was Jewish?”

“I don’t keep Kosher,” the blonde replied, “at least not where bacon and sausage are concerned.” She was hungry enough to think fondly of a bacon cheeseburger with extra onions from Big Belly, but the team had decided on pizza. That is if they could agree on toppings. “Ham, is another story.”

Thea shot her a skeptical look and thought about pouting because she really liked Hawaiian pizza, however Ollie wasn’t a fan of the meat and fruit combo so she knew not to press on that front. Fungus on the other hand was something she felt strongly about, which meant no pie they’d shared would have shrooms on it. “But mushrooms?” she whined. Forgoing the pout she forced her hazel eyes wide to cast a pleading puppy dog look. The look always forced Ollie to capitulate and Dig was pretty susceptible to it as well, but she had less success with Felicity and Laurel.

“We could get a white pizza,” Laurel suggested over her shoulder as she worked on restocking the medical supply cart.

“It’s not pizza if there is no sauce,” Oliver lamented, hoping to cut-off her recommendation quickly. They had that argument, yes an honest to goodness fight, about what constituted pizza when they dated. God, they’d been young then.

Laurel rolled her eyes, remembering the old argument. “Fine, extra cheese then.”

“Is that even a topping?” Felicity queried. “I mean pizza comes with cheese on it already, just getting more of it doesn’t seem like a true topping to me.”

“Me either,” Thea concurred, “though extra cheese sounds good. How about a meat lover’s with extra cheese.”

“Ham,” Oliver said quickly, before Felicity had to naysay the suggestion. His girlfriend shot him an appreciative smile and offered, “Plus I like some veggies on my pizza.”

“Sauce is made of vegetables,” Thea countered. She watched with amusement as Felicity opened her mouth to respond, but closed it again a moment later because she had no comeback. It wasn’t often that Felicity was without a ready and witty response, so she felt a sense of victory at stumping the genius.

Dig let out a long suffering sigh, drawing the attention of everyone in the room, with their collective gaze on him he asked, “Do we have to have this discussion every time? Can we just agree on two medium pizzas – one pepperoni with extra cheese and one sausage and onions – our _usual_ ,” he stressed the word hard, “order.”

“Mmm pepperoni,” Thea and Felicity said together, flashing each other matching grins; while Laurel replied, “That works for me.”

Catching Dig’s exasperated look, Oliver shrugged his shoulders. Inane yet passionate debates about what they were going to eat were a part of their lives now. It was stupid, but so normal, and he wouldn’t trade that for anything in the world.


	7. Sister Knows Best

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thea has a few words of wisdom for her brother before he goes riding off into the sunset.

Thea could not remember a time since his return that Ollie looked so relaxed, not mention genuinely excited and happy. It wasn’t just his eyes that went soft when he looked at Felicity, the tension that held his body at the ready for whatever fight he might face next, loosened. She had come to like the brilliant blonde that she got to truly know for the first time during Ollie’s time in Nanda Parbat, but it wasn’t until she saw the hope in her brother’s eyes that she down right adored Felicity Smoak. It also became crystal clear to Thea that beyond loving her, her brother _needed_ her.

Despite the changes in him and his less than forthright ways since his return from the dead, she loved Ollie. And though he didn’t quite know himself, she did – at least the important parts – the parts that the island, his time as a vigilante, and even Ra’s al Ghul could not change. Thea wanted him to be happy, and that couldn’t happen without Felicity, and given her brother’s track record with relationships … riding off together was a beautiful, grand gesture; and considering the insanity they’d all been through together, time away, where they could concentrate on each other, made sense.

She, however, knew better than most that running away from home and the problems there was not the way to live your life. Roy reminded her of that recently, even though the lesson had hurt. Thea liked to think that someday they’d find each other again, and not just in passing, but for good. They certainly loved each other enough to make it work, but right now she needed to be in Starling – continuing her brother’s work to heal the wounds their parents made – and he couldn’t be.

If Ollie was going to make things work with Felicity long term they’d be back, which is why she didn’t put up a fight when he talked of leaving right after she’d gotten him back. When she needed time away, he gave it to her; the least she could do was return the favor. Thea knew they’d need more than time together, and whether or not her brother wanted her advice he was going to get it. Resolved, she knocked on the door-frame of his room. He looked up from his packing and offered her a smile. “Hey Speedy.”

She resisted rolling her eyes at the nickname. He’d never give up calling her that. “Almost done?” she asked stepping into his room.

“Yeah,” he answered, tucking the shirt he’d been folding into a canvas duffel bag.

“You have a minute?”

“For you, _always_.”

The sincerity in his voice caused her to smile. “Even if I want to offer unsolicited advice?” Thea let out a chuckle at his slight cringe. “I promise it won’t be too painful.”

Ollie huffed, “Say what you need to Thea.”

She let the joviality fall from her face because she wanted to impart how serious she was about this to her brother. “You can’t expect honesty if you don’t offer it back in return.” The teasing light left his eyes and they darkened with remorse, shame, and something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. For a brief moment Thea considered backtracking, because she was tired of the haunted Ollie of the past three years; but she knew that she had to press on if she wanted to make sure that version of her brother didn’t have a chance to return. “That doesn’t mean you have to start spilling your guts. If there is something you’re not ready to talk about yet, than say that, but you can’t keep withholding things or you’re going to lose her. After all Felicity is super hero bait.”

“Super hero bait?”

She scoffed internally, of all the things she said, that was what Ollie picked up on. “I remember Barry making heart eyes at Felicity,” he scowled at that, “and I know he’s the Flash now. There’s also you and Palmer. Don’t look at me like that Ollie. You can’t rewrite the past, no matter _how_ much you might like to, clearly Felicity attracts a type.” His perplexed and grumpy look amused her; she really would have to spell it out for him. “Handsome, do-gooders in need of assistance; so if you mess up she won’t be single for long,” he visibly paled at that and Thea couldn’t help but think, good, because it seemed like he was finally getting it. “Considering how much she’s forgiven you for already … well, I wouldn’t do anything majorly stupid or a year or _five_.”

He blinked at her. Thea wasn’t sure if she stunned him into silence or if he was absorbing her words, taking them to heart. After an awkward moment he finally said, “Thanks?”

Charmed by him, she stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his waist. “You know I love you Ollie.”

“I do,” he answered returning her embrace. “I love you too.”

She tipped her head back so their eyes could meet, “Unsolicited advice and all?”

“You’re a brat, but you’ll always be _my_ brat,” he assured her with a quick squeeze, amusement seeping back into his blue eyes and smile touching his lips.


	8. Don’t Ask Me to Say That I Don’t Love You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My own version of what went on in Oliver’s headspace after seeing the kiss between Felicity and Ray in 3.7 (Draw Back Your Bow).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Learned something new about myself, apparently I go into withdrawals if I don’t write Oliver angst.

It was hard to breathe, let alone think. His entire world had shifted in a quiet unassuming moment. Diggle’s words had inspired him, though to what, he honestly could not say. He meant what he told Felicity – he did not think he could be the Arrow, do what needed to be done – and be Oliver Queen. And she deserved so much more than what the vigilante could offer her. His life was the mission and uncertainty; he’d never be able to put her or them first.

Though he meant what he told Dig as well, he did not want to die alone. He’d been pushing what little family he had left and his friends so far into the periphery of his life that he was guaranteeing that dreaded outcome. What made it worse, all but _unbearable_ , was that that he’d done it himself, his own choices lead to this; the reasons, valid as he believed them to be, for those decisions meant nothing as he faced the consequences of them.

Felicity, _his_ Felicity, in the arms of another man. Kissing him. That the man was Ray Palmer was a bitter pill, because a year ago he’d been in similar place; a company to run, money to do good work with, and Felicity at his side. Though he hadn’t exactly squander it, he’d been so focused on being the Arrow and doing it right to honor Tommy, that he hadn’t appreciated what he had. Queen Consolidated had been inconvenience to his nighttime work and he had still preferred the immediate gratification of stopping criminals, over the slower and longer methods needed to help the city. He had everything he wanted, without realizing it, and he’d lost it.

Oliver thought he understood that before, felt the pain of it. He’d been wrong. He hadn’t felt the excruciating depth of all that he lost until he'd gone to the newly minted Palmer Technologies, heart on his sleeve, intending to … what? Felicity had begged him not to dangle maybes, but he’d been unable, and told him she would not wait, but he had never fully believed it because he couldn’t. He needed to believe that someday his future would include being with Felicity, because it made every sacrifice – even putting off being together – worth it.

He had no plan going in, just the need to see her, to be in her presence and … and … he didn’t know and he would never find out because instead of walking into Felicity’s office, he’d walked away, heart aching.

 _He_ walked away. _Again_. He had so many chances – the day Felicity and Dig had searched him out at his secondary base, the day they’d dropped Slade off in the ARGUS prison on Lian Yu, the night in the hospital after Sara was born, or any day after. Chance after chance and he walked away from them – from her.

Acknowledging that caused the fury to bubble up inside him. He slammed his hands down hard on the table in the Foundry, not giving any thought to how he ended up there, before he threw the contents off the table with an angry sweep of his arm.


	9. Of Gold Dresses and Bomb Collars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place during 1.15 (Dodger), Oliver deals with an overabundance of feelings and a madman with his finger on the trigger.

In a matter of days she had inspired a plethora of emotions; one tiny blonde had elicited annoyance, contrition, amusement, surprise (he was having trouble admitting to lust though he knew he’d never forget how she looked in that short, gold dress), fear that had rolled into anger and protective determination. Oliver wasn’t used to feeling so much, or more accurately to admitting to himself any feelings that deterred him from his mission. Diggle had warned him that pulling Felicity into his crusade would place her in danger and he assured his friend that they would be able to protect her. Of course, his intention was to keep her behind her monitors and not allow her into the field.

 _The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry_.

Oliver knew that all too well, he’d been living it out the last five years, and still he’d been confident in his and Dig’s ability to protect her. When he saw the bomb collar around her neck he’d froze in disbelief, only for second, but seeing Dig move towards her as she backed away got him moving. There was no time to dwell on his panicky fear with the Dodger out there having the ability to end Felicity’s life at the push of a button. His hands had curled when she begged, “Get away from me! If this thing blows …”

He hadn’t been able to contemplate that happening. Felicity’s safety was his responsibility, _she_ was his responsibility, and had been since he had sought out her assistance a second time. He’d actually growled at her, “Not going to happen.”

Leaving her with Dig to track the Dodger down had made his stomach knot. He wanted to stay, as if being in his presence would somehow protect her, but defusing complex bombs was not his forte. Doing whatever was necessary to complete the mission was another story, so getting Felicity to concentrate and lead him to the Dodger via the GPS they planted was the only thing he could do. Oliver did his best to block out the fear he heard in her voice as she directed him to the Dodger’s location as letting it distract him would only endanger her more.

His frustration had grown with every second he been in pursuit and when the car crashed he hadn’t known whether to be relieved or worried. When he made out the hushed conversation between Felicity and Dig over the blood rushing in his ears he knew the detonator hadn’t been triggered. The tentative relief he felt washed away as he watched the Dodger crawl from his wrecked vehicle. He did, however, find himself grateful for the helmet he wore, not just because it protected his identity, but because the man could not see the fury written across his face. With it coursing through him, Oliver didn’t think he could mask his intentions and if the Dodger could anticipate his actions it could mean the difference between Felicity living or dying. And she was **_not_** going to die tonight.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” the accented voice warned with way too much confidence. “I had the foresight to collar up a particularly inquisitive blonde. I assume she’s a friend of yours. Touch one hair on my head and she loses hers.” Each word the Brit uttered made him seethe, but his arrogant taunt, “You’ve got quite the choice to make don’t you?” had him seeing red. Oliver desperately wanted to pound his fists into the man and he regretted that such a physical assault was not a possibility as he would not take any action that would place Felicity in further peril.

He did take solace in the fact that he was about to show the Dodger that he did not have the upper hand like he assumed. “Not this time,” he said moving swiftly, fingering the small hidden arrow and flinging it expertly at the man’s arm. “Your median nerve has been severed. You couldn’t push that button if you tried,” he said, wrenching the remote detonator from the man’s hand and disengaging the collar.

Over the Bluetooth connection he heard Felicity’s breathy, “Oh thank god.” The worst of the tension and rage he’d been feeling ebbed knowing that she was safe.

“Why are you doing this?” the Dodger asked. “I’m exactly like you.” That assessment brought his fury back full force; it was almost enough to distract him from the slight movement of the man’s other hand. Almost. “I only steal from the rich.”

When the Dodger made his move to taser him, Oliver easily pulled the weapon from his grasp and turned it on him. He felt some satisfaction watching the jolt go through him before he dropped to the ground, though he knew pummeling him with his hands would be the only thing that would work out his residual aggression. Since he couldn’t do that, he flipped up the helmet visor and retorted, “I’m not Robin Hood.”

Felicity chuckled over their open line. “No you’re not, but tonight you’re most definitely _my_ hero.”


	10. “difference of opinion about the way the world works”

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My own head-canon about how Lyla views Oliver and his actions post-season three, along with a surprise she has for Diggle.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always thought LyIa's view of Oliver's actions as Al Sah-Him would be different than Dig's and I've used this drabble to explore that because I absolutely **_adore_** Lyla Michaels, her portrayer Audrey Marie Anderson, and Dyla. I've only written from Lyla's POV once before (in Identity) but I treasured doing so, and hopefully, I've done her justice in canon.

_Sometimes bravery isn't enough; sometimes the world requires us to be bold._

Lyla had shared those words with Oliver not long ago, and unlike Johnny, he understood. Perhaps it was the experience of working for Waller, at least partially, which allowed them to accept that sometimes extremes were necessary. That was something she and Johnny had never been able to agree on – that difference and the arguments they had because they saw the world differently – was the biggest reason they’d divorced. Thankfully, he realized what she had always known, they were better together.

There would always be disagreements and sometimes there would be hard choices, but as long as they were together as a family, they could surmount any obstacle and come out the stronger for it. Though their latest difference of opinion was complicated, colored by parenthood and feelings of betrayal, and even though Lyla understood where her husband was coming from, he could not offer her the same.

It was different for Johnny. Oliver was his best friend, his _brother_ , and the younger man betrayed their relationship – their family. Lyla knew from firsthand experience that when John Diggle loved, he did so with his whole heart, with everything he had in him; and, it continually amazed her that he always seemed to have more of himself to give. And above everything, Johnny valued family.

When Oliver trespassed into their home, took her, and left their beautiful little girl – their precious Sara – alone he didn’t just cross a line, he obliterated it. She had felt that betrayal as well, not at her abduction, the cold logic behind that she understood; but it had taken her awhile to forgive Oliver for leaving Sara defenseless. The fact that she had been able to mystified and angered Johnny.

Motherhood had changed her, because Lyla had been able to justify the extremes, but after Sara and seeing Floyd Lawton die a hero only to have his transformation washed away for political expediency; she knew that she needed to set a better example for her daughter. She did not doubt that extremes were still needed; she just knew she could not be the one to dispense them. Accepting that change had made quitting ARUGS easier, but knowing that no matter what Johnny would be always be proud of her, had eased something in her soul – a gnawing that had been there since their relationship fell apart the first time.

Lyla thought perhaps that was the reason she’d been able to forgive Oliver. They were kindred spirits, having done and seen things no one should have to; the difference was she allowed herself to have happiness and love. She had Johnny and Sara, their families, their friends. Oliver had struggled with that, wanting it, playing a game of push and pull, because he’d been unable to accept that he was worthy of it.

He finally made the right choice. A little late, possibly too late to salvage his relationship with Johnny, but Lyla still held out hope for them. As hurt and angry as Johnny was, and rightfully so, she knew he would never be content with himself if he clung to those emotions and never allowed Oliver to make things right. He’d had come to rely on and need their relationship over the last three years, and neither of them would truly be whole without the other.

That’s why even though he had been reluctant he’d joined Thea and Laurel in their nighttime activities, filling in for Felicity, running coms and researching. Lyla knew that wouldn’t be enough for him. Her Johnny was a hero, he might never see himself that way – he’d always seen himself as an ordinary guy doing what was needed – but _that_ is what made him extraordinary.

When he was ready, she knew he’d be back in the field, and when that time came she had surprise for him. Thanks to designs she helped Cisco work up; he would finally have his own identity concealment. Until that time came the anticipation of seeing the look on his face when she gave him his own “mask” was her secret thrill.


	11. Learning the Ins and Outs of Oliver Jonas Queen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Post season three, road-trip drabble inspired by the amazing and talented [SuperSillyAndDorky06](http://archiveofourown.org/users/SuperSillyAndDorky06/pseuds/SuperSillyAndDorky06)'s [Things They Learn Series](http://archiveofourown.org/series/278871) \- if you haven't read the series yet, you **_should_**. Just a few things Felicity learns about Oliver during their travels.

He liked sports. All sports, though baseball and hockey were his favorites. If they were in a bar with a game on his eyes would drift the screens, quickly sneaking a glance, before returning his full attention back to her. Whenever she caught him in one of those moments Oliver shot her a sheepish look. Felicity actually started to love seeing that look cross his face – it made strong, proficient Oliver Queen, former vigilante – seem like a lost, but hopefully puppy dog. So she listened to him talk sports, let him drag her into the FIFA Women’s World Cup craziness, and they had even attended a major league baseball game. She hadn’t been as bored attending the game as she thought she’d be. When Oliver watched the sport on television she was usually buried in her tablet until he saw fit to distract her from it. Being at a ball park was different; experiencing the crowd and the food – goodness the food had been _delicious_ – and the different games and videos they put on to entertain the crowd had been fun. Plus, the two of them singing ‘Take Me Out to the Ball Game’ at the top of their lungs had been a blast. It made it easy to promise to attend another game when they landed in a city with a team and to consider a hockey game when the season started. Felicity already knew she’d go, just so she could see the beaming grin that had spread over Oliver’s face before he kissed her senseless after she made that pledge again. Plus, she secretly hoped that they’d be selected for the kiss cam.

He tried not worry about Thea, very unsuccessfully. For a man who left her in charge of most of his communication – phone, text, emails – when he’d been CEO, he had to have some kind of daily communication with Thea. Since he preferred to actually see his sister Oliver decided to master the use of the video call option on his smart phone’s Skype app. Watching his attempts had been one of the highlights of her life, though Felicity suspected that Oliver may have pretended to be worse with the technology than he actually was because he’d liked the amused look on her face and her peals of laughter.

He needed to exercise. _A lot_. Oliver was used to being active. Even when he’d been injured in the past he’d pushed through the pain; though Felicity noticed that his exercising wasn’t nearly as intense as it had been in the past, there were no endless hours punching things. Instead, most days he was content with running and she often found herself joining him, as long as the heat and humidity were not too oppressive. The days she liked best were the ones when he’d be able to pull out some of his parkour moves. Watching Oliver’s glistening muscles pull and stretch would always be a favorite past time of hers, and he knew it; in fact, he seemed to take great pleasure in showing off for her. Sometimes though he'd need more, on those days, he’d find a boxing gym and an opponent able to go a few rounds. He’d come back with a few bruises, but the tension that had slowly crept into his shoulders would be gone and the easy smile she was getting accustomed to would reappear.

He liked doing laundry. In fact, Oliver Queen honestly _enjoyed_ doing laundry and was _good_ at it. He would separate the whites from the colors, weed out the delicates, and run the various loads through the washer and dryer using precise cycle settings. Felicity would have been happy to hand off their clothes to others to be cleaned, as seeing Oliver handle her undergarments always made her blush, but he insisted on doing it himself. And somehow he managed to make it fun. They’d share a pizza and play Plants vs. Zombies on her tablet, he’d tell her stories about his and Tommy’s or his and Thea’s attempts at normal everyday things like doing laundry and how they’d usually ended up failing spectacularly. On their fourth laundry date he even shared the story behind how he developed his “wicked fluff and fold skills” (her term for his capabilities) and she liked Tatsu all the more after hearing it.

He had nightmares. Not every night, in fact, they were happening less and less; but he still had them. Oliver could never talk about them when he first woke up, instead she would find herself being pulled against him, his arms banding her into a too tight embrace as he worked to even out his breathing. His heart beat erratically, and as much as Felicity would want to offer a soothing touch she knew it would only make him flinch and extend the time it would take for him to settle; but once his breathing matched hers, she’d rub her hand over his heart and his grasp would loosen. On some nights that is when he’d start to talk, to tell her about the nightmare, and they would usually be up talking for hours as the conversation would drift from what disturbed his sleep to other topics – pieces of his time away, stories about their childhood, debates about where to travel to next – they’d keep talking until she’d yawn and Oliver would tell to close her eyes and rest. Her reply was always, “You first mister.” He’d huffed, kiss her forehead and then close his eyes. A few times though he’d stay quiet. The third time that happened Felicity asked him about it, her question caused his eyes to go distant and his too tight grip to return, before his mouth roughly claimed hers. When they made love that night it felt as though Oliver was trying to absorb her into himself. It still felt like that on the nights his nightmares did not lead to them talking.

He was ticklish, in one spot, mid-torso along his left rib cage. When she tickled him in that spot was the only time that Oliver laughed full out. She loved that sound, he knew she loved that sound, so he’d let her tickle him whenever she wanted.


	12. Even in the Darkest Places the Light Will Find You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Watching the parachute soar towards Lian Yu Oliver wasn’t sure if the sight was a blessing or a curse. A peak into Oliver’s headspace at the beginning of season two.

Even from the thick canopy of the island’s trees Oliver could make out the whine of a plane as it neared what had once been his nightmare, but was now a sanctuary of sorts. Nothing about Lian Yu could be considered hospitable. There were no luxuries, hell there were no necessities, there was just enough there for survival and he wasn’t even certain if he was deserving of that.

Not after failing to stop the Undertaking. Hundreds of lives had been lost, including his oldest friend – a friend he’d betrayed. Learning that the Undertaking was what his father had been trying to prevent, seeing the possibility of fulfilling his promise to him, thinking that he would not have to hold himself back from the people he loved and still missed, because as long as he had to wear the hood he’d never truly be home; but he’d glimpsed the light at the end of the tunnel, the end of his mission. He’d be able to be the son, brother, friend, and boyfriend he’d been before, only _better_. He’d be worthy of his family, his friends old and new, and of love – and he had equated Laurel with love even though she hadn’t been his anymore.

There had been passion, and unresolved feelings, a history that neither had been able to let go of and his moment of hope met with her moment of hurt causing them to combust. If he was honest with himself, and that was one of the reasons he’d run to the island, it stripped him everything that wasn’t true; if he had managed to stop the Undertaking and Tommy had not died he was not sure where he’d be, though he knew happy with Laurel was not a possibility. Not with her love for Tommy, the guilt he would have felt for betraying his friend, and their messy past.

That he thought even for a moment that the last five years could erase his playboy past, that the man he’d become would still want and need the same things that stupid, selfish kid he’d been was foolish on his part. He’d been trying to fold the person he’d become into his old life and the fit had never been right. Forcing things had only ended up hurting people – Thea, his mother, Laurel, Tommy – even himself. The only thing Oliver could think to do to stop hurting the people he had left was to remove himself from the equation, and once again the island would be his penance.

The sight of a parachute soaring towards Lian Yu, towards him, made his breath catch. He had not seen another soul for months and though the solitude had begun to tax him, Oliver knew he wasn’t prepared to deal with humanity, even though there were two faces in particular he’d longed to see.

He moved stealthily to the beach and felt a jolt when he saw blonde hair shining in the light. Transfixed he watched Felicity and Diggle on the beach and as they moved closer and he could hear their conversation he let out a soft huff of laughter at something Felicity said. It was the first time in months that he’d felt amusement. It was such a foreign sensation that he stayed still and silent above his friends as they moved away from him.

It was not until he lost sight of them that Oliver felt his breath return to normal and reality settled over him. Diggle and Felicity where here, on Lian Yu, and they had no idea of the dangers hidden on the island. Though he wanted to stay hidden, his protective instincts took over and followed quickly after them; he could only be grateful for that decision when he found Dig on his knees trying to defuse the landmine Felicity was standing on.

He cut off the cold terror he felt at the scene before he ordered Dig to back away. “Felicity! Don’t move!” he barked, before shooting an arrow with a rope attached. Using the rope, he swung down, wrapping an arm around Felicity – she had raised her arms and he felt them band around him as he lifted her and propelled them both away from the landmine. The second her weight was off it, it exploded, pushing them forward. They landed in a heap, he’d meant to angle their decent so that she’d land on top of him, but the blast prevented that move, and he felt her soft curves underneath him.

Oliver fought against his body’s natural reaction to the opposite sex. Gritting his teeth, he brought his head up so he could take a visual inventory of woman beneath him. Her blue eyes were wide with residual fear, her cheeks flushed pink, and he could feel her hand tremble on his bare back as she let out a breathy, “God, y—you’re really sweaty.”

Diggle made a remark about him being a hard man to find before Oliver shook his head and muttered softly that they shouldn’t have come. Moments later John was pulling him up before he knelt next to Felicity as she sat up. He performed a quick exam to make sure she was indeed okay and then they stood together. Before either of them could speak, he nodded, turned and started towards where he made his home on the island.

While they walked Oliver could hear some of scattered exchanges between his old partners. He knew why they had come and even though he was grateful to see his favorite blonde again, he had no intention of returning to Starling. Of risking more hurt to the people who mattered most to him.

He wasn’t sure if was by design not, but Diggle was the first one to speak once they reached the plane. His dismissive response got Felicity talking as he put on a shirt, and being her, and possibly because it had been so long since she had the opportunity, she rambled, “Could you at least _pretend_ like you’re glad to see us? Dig and I have spent weeks tracking you down, we’ve travelled halfway across the world and this morning we flew in a plane **_so_** old, I’m pretty sure I was safer once I jumped out of it. You could at least offer us a water. Or… coconut!”

With each word she spoke, Oliver found the tension easing from him. He forgotten how just being in the bright presence of Felicity Smoak made him feel better. When she made her comment about the coconut he couldn’t help himself, “Fresh out of coconuts,” he deadpanned, handing her a canteen filled with water. And because truth won out here he added, “I _am_ happy to see you.”


	13. Yippee-ki-yay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A tease of my _Die Hard_ -inspired AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't time to work on any drabbles this past week because I've been working on a MONSTER (5800+ words and counting) of an AU inspired by _Die Hard_. No way I'll make the deadline for the 80s themed _Arrow_ Movie Challenge, which is what instigated this endeavor. It along with having vacation time with my nephews will be taking my attention for the foreseeable future, so there will not be any drabbles for a while. ETA: Link to the full story, [Welcome to the Party](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4580868).

The flight from Starling to LA was not a long one, but the need for it still bothered him. He hated living in a different city than Felicity. Husbands and wives were supposed to live together under the same roof, in the same bed. He knew Felicity would prefer that arrangement herself but her promotion required her to be in LA, at least for the first year. After the new division was setup there was possibility of her working out of Starling again. It was just a possibility which grated on Oliver's nerves.

Starling City was his home. He'd been born and raised there, and beyond his two years of wanderlust he'd spent his whole life there. His love for the city made him want to make it a better place, which is why he joined the police department. He had been two weeks shy of his promotion from beat cop when he’d stopped a purse snatcher and met Felicity Smoak. She had babbled her thanks to him, clutching the tablet that had been in her oversized bag to her breast like a beloved child. He’d been charmed by her manner and attracted to her soft, curved body and asked her out even though that was frowned upon.

Felicity had blinked her lovely blue eyes him, “You’re asking me out on a date? Like an _actual_ date? Like a _date_ -date?” Her flustered surprise had caused her to blush and the color on her cheeks pushed her from adorable in his mind to downright beautiful. Oliver had stumbled over his reply to her and she joked about being the one to talk in sentence fragments. They clicked into place after that and he went from casually dating a three other women to exclusively dating Felicity within a month, surprising his family and his best friend, Tommy.

He’d never been one for a serious monogamous relationship. In fact, the one time he tried to have one he’d failed miserably. It worked out best in the end though for Laurel, as he’d been truly committing himself to one woman for the first time, she and Tommy had finally taken the plunge and moved in together. Six months later when Tommy proposed, Oliver asked Felicity to move in with him. A year later, after watching the limo whisk the newlyweds off, he asked her to marry him. Felicity had crinkled her nose and teasingly asked, “You’re not trying to keep up with the Merlyns are you?”

In response he had pulled out the elegant but simple platinum wedding band he kept tucked safely in his pocket throughout the day. He’d purchased it over a month before, but with all the wedding craziness, he’d decided to hold off so as not to take the spotlight off of Tommy and Laurel. “They have nothing on us,” he whispered, slipping the band on her finger. Felicity had beamed up at him and proceeded to kiss him senseless before agreeing to marry to him.

He received a decent amount of ribbing for proposing with a wedding band, but Felicity loved it. Spending most of her day typing away at a computer she tended not to wear rings in general. “They rub and my fingers swell,” he remembered her saying when his sister asked why she didn’t wear any of the rings in her small, but tasteful jewelry collection. Though he offered to buy her an actual engagement ring, and his mother even offered his grandmother’s ring, she declined, telling them that: “I already have the perfect ring and the _best_ guy. I don’t need bling.”

Felicity had insisted on engraving their rings with their initials, a little arrow between them and a heart following. “I would have gone with binary code, but it never would have fit,” she’d teased admiring the intricate design within the bands. A few months later, they had the opposite of the lavish affair Tommy and Laurel’s wedding had been; a small, intimate afternoon ceremony with an English style tea for the reception, followed by a blissful week away where they had nothing but each other’s attention.

It was shortly after they got back that Felicity got her first promotion, and another had quickly followed. Her hours got longer, but it was hard to begrudge her that time when he could get called in unexpectedly or had to pull a double shift because of an important case. Plus it made her so damn happy, being on the forefront of technological work for the Nakatomi Corporation; and when Walter Steele handpicked her to oversee the setup of the new division she had nearly burst at the seams.  Oliver had been so proud of her and hundred percent supportive until they found out that the division was being setup in Los Angeles and not Starling.

They fought about it – their first serious fight – and Felicity had wavered on whether or not to accept the promotion. He’d hated himself then. His wife had been offered her dream job and the only thing holding her back was him. So he told her to go, and she told him that leaving him wasn’t going to happen; they fought again, but this time they made up – makeup sex with Felicity easily won the best sex of his life – and they made a plan. When she had expressed her concerns to Walter he’d been understanding and mentioned the possibility of her time in LA only being a year. Since Oliver couldn’t just drop his cases and transfer they decided they could manage a year of living in different cities with them traveling to visit each other as much as they could. Once the year was up, if Felicity needed to stay longer they’d reevaluate and in the meantime Oliver would look into what he would need to do to make the move to the LAPD.

Of course they were closing in on that year timeframe and Oliver hadn’t even talked to Lance about it. Worse, it looked like Felicity would definitely need to stay in LA longer than anticipated. He knew that conversation was going to come up during this visit and he didn’t look forward to seeing the disappointment on her face when she realized that he hadn’t lived up to their agreement. He never expected to need to, and now that the time had come he couldn’t help but be angry at himself for procrastinating and annoyed at Felicity – well at her job – for putting them in this position.

To top it all off, instead of flying in and getting alone time with his spouse, he was off to some stupid office Christmas party. Felicity was Jewish, and even though they celebrated both holidays, he’d hope to avoid sharing her with her job during his visit. He was definitely not in the cheerful holiday frame of mind when he landed; nor was he feeling his normal excitement at the prospect of seeing Felicity in person. In fact, Oliver was sort of dreading it. So much so, he’d been terse (Felicity would have said grumpy) with his driver, a young kid by the name of Sin, who’d tried to ease his obvious tension with small talk during the drive from the airport to Nakatomi Plaza.

As they pulled up to the building, Sin offered to wait in the garage. “If things go well with your lady call down and I’ll skedaddle. If not, I’ll be here to take you wherever you need to go.”

He forced out a chuckle. “You’re a good woman Sin,” he said sliding out of the car, carryon in hand. The kid flashed him a smile and wished him, “Good luck.”

“Thanks,” Oliver replied, shutting the door. He knew he was going to need it.


	14. Just Breathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get the antidote, save the city – that was the only thing that mattered until the van flipped, otherwise known as glimpse into Oliver’s headspace during 2.22 (Streets of Fire).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _Die Hard_ AU is nearly complete, but this would not leave me alone. Apparently AU Oliver is just not angsty enough for me.

Oliver could feel the adrenaline coursing through his system as he sat in the back of the van with his blood pumping at a thrumming pace. It was hard – so, _so_ hard – to sit still as Dig maneuvered the van through the chaotic streets of Starling City. Seeing his home crumbling around him, once again because _he_ was unable to stop it, made him ache.

He had already lost so much … his father, Yeo Fei, Shado, the girl Sara had been, Akio, Tommy, his –

Oliver nearly broke thinking of his mother. Moira Dearden Queen was not the saintly woman he idolized in his youth. She could be cold and calculating, but in spite of her flaws he knew she loved her family, wholeheartedly. So deeply and thoroughly that she would do, and had done, anything to protect them.

Oliver knew he inherited the will to do what was necessary from her.

But he couldn’t think about her or anything else right now. He had a singular mission to complete: retrieve the antidote, save the city. That was all that mattered. Oliver wanted to growl at Dig to go faster but the mass of overturn or abandoned cars, looting mobs and running scared civilians prevented them from moving as swiftly as they would have liked.

Their forward progress came to jolting halt. He heard the crunch of metal, the shattering of glass, Diggle’s sharp exhale as his chest met the seatbelt stretched over it, and Felicity’s yelp. Oliver tried to keep his eyes on his friends as the world outside of the windshield tilted and flipped, but instinct took over and his gaze left them as he braced for impact.

The screech of metal on asphalt seemed to go on forever. He let out a relieved huff when the vehicle began to teeter back and forth before finally coming to a lolling stop. Oliver had a small case of the spins and it made concentrating on what was in front of him difficult. His unfocused eyes could barely make out the movement of Diggle in the front of van. There was no sign of Felicity.

His heart shuddered to stop as he envisioned the damage her small frame would have suffered if she’d been thrown from the van. “Dig,” he croaked out.

The older man shifted slightly and Oliver saw a blonde head sink onto Diggle’s shoulder. His breath caught at how Felicity’s head slumped – like dead weight. The madness outside the van, the mission, everything fell away as he took in the sight of a very still, a too still, Felicity Smoak. “Is—” he paused, unable to ask if she was alive, because the possibility of Felicity being dead was unthinkable. She was light and hope and everything good in the world.

Dig reached for her neck; Oliver knew he was checking for a pulse. Please. _Please_.

“Is she breathing?” he managed to strangle out, his voice unrecognizable to his own ears.

He saw Diggle’s fingers push into the smooth skin of her neck. The older man trembled slightly and Oliver felt his world caving on him until he heard Diggle’s breathless, “Yeah. Yeah.”

The knowledge that she was alive allowed everything to snap back into laser focus. There were mirakuru soldiers closing in them, they had to get out of the van. He said as much and he and Diggle moved in tandem to extricate themselves from the disabled van.

Worming his way out through the gap where the windshield used to be Oliver felt his knee flame in pain. Wincing, he stood and made ready to shoot an explosive arrow into the van. He timed his shot perfectly. As the soldiers opened the backdoors the arrow exploded incapacitating them.

He lurched over to where Diggle had dragged Felicity. It wasn’t a conscious decision, but pure need that fueled his actions. He thrust his bow at Diggle and swooped down to lift Felicity gently into his arms. As he picked her up Oliver groaned because the additional weight made his inflamed knee spark with agony. He huffed through the stabbing pain that radiated out from it.

The discomfort was worth it; being able to feel the rise and fall of her chest as she breathed shallowly, to know by every place their bodies met that she was alive. Whatever he had to endure it was worth it.

In that moment, as he carried Felicity away from their wrecked vehicle, the only thing that mattered to him was her.


	15. What You Don’t See Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Madman at her back, sword at her throat. Felicity’s POV during 2.23 (Unthinkable).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This has been explored brilliantly by so many folks, still I couldn’t help tossing my hat into the ring.

Madman at her back, sword at her throat. This precarious position wasn't where she expected to find herself when Oliver told her that he knew how to get Slade to out think him.

“I need you trust me,” he beseeched. “Do you trust me?”

His question made her own to him over a year ago echo in her mind. _“_ _Can I trust you?”_ She had already given Oliver Queen her trust, from that first moment they met – she had seen beyond the façade he presented and into him – she had seen his inherent goodness. He had asked bizarre favors of her and told her increasingly ridiculous lies, but she trusted that there was a reason for them.

Perhaps it had been blind faith spurred on by the way her heart flipped when their eyes met. Romance novels always spoke of hearts stopping, but Oliver had the opposite effect. Her pulse had quickened, speeding her thoughts which lead to her babbling; a habit she had been sure she squelched.

His glib response the night she asked him that hadn't shaken her belief, but it _had_ frustrated her. To the point that she’d been ready to leave and was prepared not assist him the next time he asked. But Oliver stopped her and told her that she could trust him. He had been earnest when he’d spoken those words and eventually she had been rewarded with his truth - he was Starling City's vigilante hero.

Felicity answered his question without hesitation, “Always.” Because she had; she had always and would always trust him.

What had shimmered in his aqua eyes at that moment had been indiscernible to her, but in their next breath Oliver grabbed her hand and she’d followed him to a motorcycle. She hadn't been able to ask his plan, but she knew he intended her to follow his lead. And she did, into the Queen Mansion and to a declaration of love that made her knees feel weak. The words felt right and he looked so sincere that she ached to return the sentiment but her thoughts kept spinning back to him telling her that he had plan.

When she felt the press of the syringe in her hand she knew what that plan was and when Oliver asked if she understood Felicity nodded. She did understand how he expected events to unfold – Slade or one of his men would come for her and she would have to wait for her moment to inject their nemesis with the cure.

Oliver was trusting her with the safety of the city, it was a huge and terrifying burden, and while her heart broke knowing his declaration of love was false it swelled with the knowledge that he believed in her that much.

It wasn't all that she wanted but knowing that her faith was reciprocated gave her the strength to do what was asked. To wait, to play the damsel – Slade didn't know of her ‘if you're not leaving, I'm not leaving’ stance – and put herself in a position where the ultimate danger she presented could not be seen.

It had been agonizing. Not the waiting or being taken, not Slade's dismissive once over, nor even now with the sharp sting of steel against her throat – no being separated from her friends, unable to help them had been unbearable.

Seeing the fear and determination in Oliver's face as he waited, body tense and coiled ready to strike, for her to make her move was wrenching. But that wasn’t the only thing Felicity saw, she could see her words to him shining back at her through his eyes ... _you are not alone and I believe in you._

That was all she needed to propel her into action and Oliver had been right, Slade Wilson never her saw her coming.


	16. How She Shines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I have head canon that Eobard Thawne crushes on Felicity Smoak and I’ve finally written about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of inspired by this GIF. Because his reaction to her says more than amused appreciation for someone who has been dead to him for a _very_ long time.
> 
>  
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> 
> FYI, this has been one of the craziest and busiest weeks of my life. I literally wrote this in the middle of the night earlier this week when I couldn’t sleep. Hopefully, my overly-exhausted brain hasn’t spit out something too crazy.

Oliver Queen called her remarkable. The word suited her perfectly. Felicity Megan Smoak, MIT Class of 2009 was indeed a magnificent example of humanity. Brilliant, caring, funny, capable, giving, beautiful, inspiring, loyal – if a league of heroes was putting together a wish list of attributes for their members she checked them all off and then some.

Cisco was the only person in the past he valued in the role he had to play to get back to his own time, but Felicity Smoak had been an unexpected treasure.

The history books had much to say about her future husband, but they had never gone into great detail about her, which having met her made little sense to Eobard. Even the internal Justice League information he had access to and Gideon were vague on the role she played.

How someone so vital to the growth of a plethora of heroes and their league could go unrecognized was a mystery. Though that was another thing about her – she would brag about her IT skills in the heat of the moment, but otherwise, Felicity was humble. She gave of herself for the better of others, never looking to be thanked.

Not that that made her a saint, in fact, she was gorgeously flawed. The biggest flaw being – at least to him – was her affection for Barry Allen. He was so undeserving of her, and yet, to ensure her continued presence in his world he had to encourage that affection.

Eobard had been strategic about his acceleration of events. The ripples across time could change the future he was trying to return to … though there was one event he would give _anything_ to change. He’d tried and failed so often, that each attempt broke something inside him. That is what led him to take the drastic action which accumulated in Nora Allen’s death.

Eobard desperately clung to the idea that his changes might have altered just enough for – **no** he _had_ to stop thinking about that. Their story had ended abruptly, all thanks to Barry Allen, and now he was stuck in a colorless past.

The only thing he found that sparkled there was Felicity. Her warmth was a balm, as was the knowledge that she was exactly the person she presented herself to be. It was such a rare thing that he’d been drawn back to her time and time again. She was not just some shadow from the past he was living with – she was _alive_ to him. Felicity Smoak, an extraordinary young woman.

She shined so brightly that she could make Eobard forget that he was more than just some future figment trapped in the past. She charmed him and in her presence he forgot his second greatest desire – to get back to his own time – and was present in the moment, enjoying it.

Simply put, when she was around he _lived_ instead of merely existing. Eobard understood that could mean something; something _big_ and important, but he refused to examine it. As much as those moments thrilled, they were dangerous. He could _not_ allow himself more than a momentary distraction or all his machinations would be for naught. Felicity might make him feel, but not enough to deter him from his quest for vengeance.


	17. Blame It on the Vodka (But Not the Short Skirts)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What Oliver was or wasn’t thinking about during his rendezvous with Isabel in 2.6 (Keep Your Enemies Closer).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something that has been tackled before, brilliantly so – in fact, I have a thing for stories that address this – but again, I couldn’t help tossing my hat into the ring.

There were certain things he could not say. Hell, there were certain things he could not allow himself to _even_ think about. He had a mission – to protect Starling City – and he was struggling to see that duty through a different way, without using lethal force, to honor Tommy. On top of that he was dealing with his mother on trial for mass murder, his sister all but living with her boyfriend and being the CEO of Queen Consolidated with his only qualification being his last name. If he could hand the company over to Walter to take care of again, Oliver would, but his former step-father was happily settled in his new position at Starling City Bank; and without him there, his bid to save the company from being taken over and dismantled would have ended unsuccessfully. Thousands would be without jobs, jobs that were desperately needed since Merlyn Global had crumbled into dust following the Undertaking.

Starling City was hurting in a multitude of ways and Oliver knew he could not allow anything to distract him from what needed to be done. Getting close to anyone, getting attached romantically was out of the question. Since he’d been back he had attempted three relationships – Helena, McKenna, and Laurel – and they had all ended in various echelons of disaster. The thought of inflicting that outcome on what was one of the most important, if not the most significant, relationship he cultivated since his return immediately cooled any wayward thoughts he had about a particular blonde genius.

At least it had until Isabel Rochev had begun making comments about Felicity’s short skirts. He had noticed how she dressed – he wasn’t blind; particularly since her style had changed, getting more sophisticated. When he had first met Felicity it had been all button-down blouses, sweaters, and panda flats. Then she had literally knocked him speechless the night of the Starling City Cancer Society Benefit with that gold dress she’d worn. Now _that_ was a short skirt.

And he was back to thinking about things he shouldn’t be, which is why he hadn’t gotten on the elevator with Felicity upon their return from securing transport for later, and headed towards the hotel bar. The last person he expected to find there had been Isabel. Sharing a drink or two with her had been low on his list of things that were likely to take place, and yet, he had. Oliver had also given into the temptation and asked her flat out if everyone thought he was involved with Felicity. Her quick response had two separate and conflicting thoughts flickering through his mind and he’d been unwilling to explore either of them, so he told her, "She's just a friend." No lie, but certainly not the truth either – more like the biggest understatement he’d ever uttered.

Isabel had countered, “You don’t seem like the kind of man to have female friends.” That had been a little too close to the truth, so he found himself deflecting and asking about her. A maneuver that had served him well in his playboy days and … _shit_!

He was not that reckless careless boy anymore and yet he found himself inside a woman he could barely stand on good days, because he had physical needs that he’d been denying himself. Having sex with Isabel was a mistake. He knew that the minute they’d tumbled into his hotel room with rushed hands and biting kisses. Oliver had tried to stop where they were headed by telling her that he didn’t have a lot of time, but she merely responded with a sultry, “I’ll be quick.” And he’d lost himself in the feel of her hands and lips, both sharp against him, because it had been months since he’d been with a woman. His blood had been pounding, forcing rational thought from him and he only felt the need for release.

Isabel was a willing, beautiful woman and he was not fearful of any calamitous outcome with her. In fact, her leaving him, his company, and his city was the desired result. Seeing her go would bring nothing but relief. Just like unleashing his pent up passion would be. She could be anyone – well almost anyone – and this moment would just be that, physical release.

He took what she offered, not really seeing her and desperately trying not to imagine the person he wished was under him; because _that_ was something he _absolutely_ could not allow himself to think about.


	18. Felicity Smoak and the Curious Case of Tequila

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a bit of hiatus road trip fluff. Drunk!Felicity questions Oliver’s choice of excuses from early in their relationship.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea, seriously not a flipping clue, where this came from. It’s so not like anything I’ve written – probably ever. So yeah. Sorry? I guess. I dunno. Please don’t throw tomatoes.

“I never said that,” Oliver protested. Felicity scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Yes, you did. That night in your office, I know there were plenty of them with Isabel scolding you,” he winced at the reminder of Isabel, he didn’t like remembering how obtuse he’d been back then in regards to his feelings for Felicity, luckily she had missed it continued on. “But Roy indicated he had information for you and I broke into your conversation. I used the pretext of you having plans that evening with Mr. Harper. I’m hundred percent sure Isabel didn’t buy it and you said –”

“We are going to have to work on your excuses,” he supplied, recalling the evening she was referencing. It had been the one before they left for Russia and Oliver hated thinking about that trip. Recollecting the look of shocked hurt on Felicity’s face after he opened his hotel room door to find her about to knock and Isabel had sauntered out, dress not completely zipped, stating that Felicity’s _services_ shouldn’t be required that evening. Remembering that always twisted his gut and made his heart ache.

If anyone would ask when he fell in love with Felicity, Oliver wasn’t sure he could pinpoint an exact moment. The truth was he’d been slowly falling in love with her from the moment they met; but it was that night in Russia, feeling her disappointment and desperately wishing he could erase the last hour of his life more than anything else in the world. That was when he had finally acknowledged that he had more than friendly feelings for her. It had taken him months to accept that fact and by then he’d been involved with Sara because while they were complicated individuals, there was nothing truly complicated about them being together.

Oliver couldn’t help but be grateful that Felicity was oblivious to his inner turmoil, as she rolled on, sipping from her third margarita. Red wine she could nip at non-stop for days with little to no effect, but a little bit of tequila in her system and Felicity’s inhibitions lowered. _Quickly_. There had been karaoke in Texas, swiping a pack of gum from a gas station in Kentucky, skinny dipping in a lake in Pennsylvania, and now rambling about his horrible excuses at bar in Massachusetts.

“To recap,” she hiccupped, “I spilled a latte on it along with a bad neighborhood – when you just met me! Granted Dig laid the MySpace reference on me, but your surprise about Derek Reston having worked at the steel factory, you _so_ could have covered that better. And I have yet to meet that buddy Steve of yours who is so into archery or that other rich, bored friend who used military-grade cryptographic security protocols for a scavenger hunt. Though I am pretty sure the lamest excuse you used was when you gave me syringe and told me it was because you ran out of sports bottles. Dig didn’t even try to work with that one, he just walked away.”

With each more outlandish excuse she reminded him of Oliver felt the tension ease and humor infuse his body. He knew this was leading somewhere; Felicity on tequila always did, as she insisted on doing something she’d never had before when she drank the strong liquor. He was grinning at her when he asked, “Do you want me to apologize for those truly horrible excuses?”

Her unfocused, slightly glassy blue eyes finally settled on him. She titled her head, like she did that first day in her office, and smiled at him sheepishly. “Nope,” she answered, popping the ‘p’. “I love every ridiculous line you fed me, Oliver.”

He huffed out a laugh and cupped her around the waist, pulling her closer to him. The noise of bar around them faded as he lost himself in the presence of the remarkable woman next to him. “I said something similar to Dig once,” she confided, leaning closer to him. “Pointed out your preposterous explanations and told him that I may be blonde but, I’m not _that_ blonde.”

“Because you dye it,” he teased.

She attempted to glare at him in her inebriated state, but wasn’t able to pull it off. She looked more adorable than angry. “Watch it Queen,” she warned. If she hadn’t slurred the words he might have taken her seriously. _Might have_. Still he forced the smile from his face so Felicity would know he taking her seriously, well at least trying to anyhow.

“Good,” she nodded. “Now, choose one.”

“What?”

“Choose one of those feeble excuses and lay it on me,” she instructed.

Oliver quirked a brow, but he was too fascinated by her and where this may be going not do as she asked. “My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood.”

Felicity snorted, and full belly laughed followed it. The sound of her laughter rang out through the bar; bring the attention of people closest to their table on them. “How … can … you … still … say … that … with … a straight … face?” she asked, though her peals of laughter which were slowly dying down.

He shrugged his shoulders, and her wide smile managed to spread even more, delight shining through every aspect of her face. “Again.”

“Felicity,” he sighed.

“I didn’t mean to laugh, I wanted …”

“You wanted to what?”

“To call you on it. I kept promising myself that next time you came to me with a crazy request and obvious lie as to why you needed something done I would, but you’d look at me with that face," she said cupping his cheek, “and those muscles,” her eyes drifted down over his body, “and well, you’re just too pretty and I’m weak.”

When her gaze met his again he reminded her, “You have though. Maybe not on those clearly pathetic excuses, but you _have_ called me out on numerous things over the years.” Oliver purred the words, remembering how Felicity standing up to him always caused things to flare between them. “In fact,” he leaned in close to whisper into her ear, “I wouldn’t mind rewriting how one of those times ended.”

Desire flooded her eyes, turning them lavender. “Oh really?” she asked, before licking her lips. Unable to resist, Oliver leaned in and melded his mouth against hers. Their tongues tangled in a languorously but intense kiss, as they leaned into each other. When his lungs were all but screaming for air he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against hers as they both gulped in air.

“Really,” he answered when he managed to catch his breath.

“Can it be the time I locked you in and you told me that I wasn’t the only one who knew how to reboot your system?”

Oliver let out a strangled breath. It still caught him off guard, the various sides of the woman in his arms: adorable nerd, bombshell beauty, bitch with wifi, and now flirtatious minx. He knew without a doubt that he was the luckiest man alive being able to love and be loved by her. The grin that spread across his face was lecherous and reminiscent of his Ollie Queen days, but that was all right, because Felicity loved every side of him. “Oh, absolutely.”


	19. All I Need

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little Summer of Olicity goodness. Oliver ruminates on all he needs, which isn't much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Got inspired listening to Awolnation on the drive to work this morning. ‘All I Need’ just feels like an Olicity song.

The first time he heard the song had been a week into their travels. The gentle opening had been difficult to hear over the purr of the engine and the whipping of wind as they cruised top-down along the historic highway. Beside him Felicity hummed in tune with music, her body angled so she could look at scenery they passed and at him. Her hand rested on his forearm and Oliver thought once again that it had been a shame that he hadn't gotten an automatic transmission; he'd much prefer driving with one of hands tangled in hers.

As the song hit its crescendo he was finally able to make out the lyrics. Music wasn't something he had kept current on after leaving the island, there hadn't been an opportunity in Hong Kong and after … he had fallen into a place so dark with the encouragement of Waller that he hadn't truly begun to pull himself out of it until he'd been captivated by the sight of blonde hair and plush lips around a red pen offset by a shock pink. Felicity had literally brought light and color back into his world.

Setting up a club over his vigilante lair to offer an explanation for how he spent his evenings hadn't allowed for a reeducation in music and not just because he left details like that to Tommy. He'd enjoyed music, of all varieties, hell he learned to appreciate opera because of all charity events he'd been dragged to over the years; but indulging in it felt frivolous. He had his mission. It wasn't just a promise he made to his father to right his wrongs, but saving Starling felt like his salvation. Or perhaps his penance for all the blood he had shed and all the mistakes he had made.

He felt undeserving of the pleasurable things in world had to offer – a decadent meal, the roar of the crowd at a sporting event, the way good music could touch your soul and ease it, or even the comfort of his mother's embrace. He denied himself these things as much as he could, until he was left with nothing but regrets.

But he was finally ready to change that. _Don't fight to die. Fight to live._ Felicity had asked that of him and because it was her asking he had to try – it was the only he could make her happy and he _needed_ that more than almost anything else in his life. 

The refrain of the song echoed. _All I need is you smiling at me_. The rhythmic pulse of the music and the sentiment behind the lyrics filled him, settling something in his heart that he hadn't been aware had still been pinched.

Felicity smiling at him, love and joy sparkling in aquamarine eyes, was all he needed. All he _wanted_.

A few weeks later they were in an open air plaza, walking off their filling tapas dinner when he heard the song again. Around the square he saw a number of couples dancing. Inspired he pulled her close and started to sway. He felt Felicity rub her cheek against his chest. "I thought you didn't dance," she commented, her words muffled against him.

"I don't unless it's with you," he replied before dropping a kiss on the top of her head.

Her arms, which had banded around him when he pulled her against him, tighten momentarily before she lifted her face, resting her chin on his chest. Felicity was smiling up at him, love and joy evident in every aspect of her beautiful face. “I love you too Oliver.”

With her words he had all he needed.


	20. Realizations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Oliver's headspace in 4.1 (Green Arrow) or how he started to open up to the idea of staying and donning the hood again. Inspired by:

From the first moment he saw her sunshine hair pulled back in a ponytail, bright stained lips around a red pen, her cornflower eyes sparkling behind her glasses Oliver thought Felicity Smoak was adorable. Even as their relationship deepened, as she went from talented resource to trusted friend and partner, and he got a glimpse of the sexy, bombshell behind the panda flats and cheerful array of colors the word adorable still perfectly encapsulated Felicity.

There were numerous other adjectives that could be applied to her … brilliant, caring, loyal, funny, determined – the list was endless, her appeal immeasurable. There was no one thing Oliver could pinpoint as the defining quality that he loved best about her. Felicity was an amalgamation of intelligence and quirks, beauty inside and out, with a loving and forgiving heart.

Even when she exasperated him, like now as he learned of her secretly helping their friends these last few months, she did so in a way that was so uniquely her own that he could not help but be charmed by her. He wasn't mad about her secret, in fact, he understood it; but it did hurt thinking that their life together hadn't been enough. With just a few words she'd settled that fear within him. Honesty was another one of her many fine traits. If Felicity said she loved every moment of their time together, she meant it.

And Oliver understood her boredom. Yes, he was relishing their quiet life together, one where they made plans that did not involve the possibility of people taking aim at him. But he too missed having a sense of purpose larger than loving and making her happy; and being back in Star City, aiding the team he left behind he felt that purpose again. It was alluring, but not nearly as much as Felicity herself.

In the past he hadn’t been able to balance that purpose with loving her and he was unwilling to make that concession again because he had a proper taste of that life now. A life where Felicity filled every corner of his world and he was unwilling to give that up for anything, especially when he wasn’t certain that he could do both.

Looking at her in front of the monitor, clicking away, Oliver knew she was in her element. This was something Felicity loved doing and there was no one better at it. He crossed over to her and squeezed her shoulder as he came to stand behind her. He inhaled the scent of her – the mixture of her shampoo, lotion, and distinctive smell that was her own skin before leaning over and placing a kiss on the top of her head. Her fingers stilled for a moment as she leaned back into him.

That gentle movement towards him reminded Oliver that her choice would always be him. It wouldn't matter if they stayed in Star City or returned to their house in Ivy Town, if he took up a mask again or not – Felicity would always be at his side.

Though it still made him ache to think about it, when she'd been with Ray she was looking for partner in all facets of her life, both parts of it – day and night. He'd been unwilling to try then because he'd been a man torn in two, unsure of whom he really was; but he was different now. _Whole_. In no small part because she helped him find himself.

Maybe, he thought for the first time, they could do this.


	21. Unevolved

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Missing Olicity scene from 4.3 (Restoration).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came to me in the middle of night and I wrote it up quick on my cell phone, so apologies for any typos, but I was just so thrilled to work on something other than the AU that is kicking my ass right now.

The second the door to the loft was closed Oliver scooped Felicity up and tossed her easily over his left shoulder. Even while he relished having a drink with John, an easy moment of camaraderie with Original Team Arrow as Felicity dubbed them; he had been plotting this moment. In fact, he’d been thinking about it since the moment Felicity let it slip that Dig was supposed to be the more evolved of the two of them. As he lifted her, she let out squeaky surprised, "Oliver!" He chuckled at the sound and she fidgeted in irritation asking him with a slight growl, "What exactly are you doing?"

His lips curved up. By her tone Oliver knew she was frowning and there was nothing quite as adorable as Felicity caught between being confused and slightly miffed. Of course there wasn’t a time when he didn’t find her adorable, loud voice included, but then Fierce Felicity was downright sexy.

Because it was right there and looked delectable he nipped her ass causing Felicity to inhale sharply. "Showing you how unevolved I am," he answered his voice laced with his very improper intentions. As he headed towards the stairs he told her, "Felicity, hold onto me tight."

"These are definitely not platonic circumstances," she replied breathlessly as he quickly traversed the path to their bedroom.

Oliver heaved her into the bed and crawled up her body slowly, letting his fingers and lips gently touch where they could as she squirmed with anticipation beneath him.

When his face was above hers he brushed their noses together and smiled down at her flushed face. "They're caveman circumstances," he promised before claiming her lips with his own.

Hours later sweaty, exhausted and completely blissed out Felicity murmured against his neck, "Evolution is overrated." He smirked as and drew her flush against him. Oliver dropped a quick kiss on her head before sleep claimed them both.


	22. Aramaic Is My Forte

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A look into Felicity's headspace during the restoration of Sara's soul. (4.6 - Haunted) 
> 
> Inspired by this GIF:
> 
>  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written at 2 AM. Apologies for the nonsense.

He was heavy, but the solid muscular weight of Oliver pressing into her was a comforting reminder that he was there with her. Her world was rapidly going sideways, expanding beyond the horizons of science to explain the impossible and delving into the mystical. After seeing the Lazarus Pit work its mojo on Thea first-hand it shouldn't have come as such a shock that Sara was back. Or that she wasn't herself.

Even as she rejoiced at the idea of having her friend return, Felicity had been apprehensive about the cost. She loved Sara, she understood what drove Laurel to take such a desperate chance, and she had already forgiven both Lance sisters for lives lost in the process as she knew they would both carry that weight for the rest of their lives. She had watched Oliver and Sara punish themselves over the lethal actions that they took, saw how it haunted them, and how much it meant to them that she never looked at them and saw the monsters they felt they were. 

Over the summer Oliver confessed how much that meant to him. How her seeing the good in him had allowed him to believe it was still there after all of the terrible things he'd done. Felicity could never truly regret his actions - though she did ache over them, for Oliver and anyone who suffered because of them - because each one was link in a chain that finally interlocked with her. Her love for Oliver was all encompassing; nothing from his past nor anything they faced or would could alter her feelings. Loving Oliver had simply become apart of her and was as necessary as breathing.

She felt similarly about the rest of their team, their  _family_. She would stand by them through anything including trips into magical waters and soul restorations.

There had been a sliver of fear when Oliver offered to travel to the other side with Constantine. It was so like him to take that sort of risk for a person he loved and while the mystical expert made it clear that they would all be in danger if they failed, she hadn't been able to stop the momentary urge to ask him not to go. The chance that he might not return, the she could lose him ... admittedly that was something they faced on a near daily basis. This was different though because she wouldn't be there to guide him home to her.

In the end she hadn't tried to stop him. It was in all their natures to risk everything for others. So she waited with baited breath and when it was done, when he was back, because he swore before putting on the mask again he would always return to her; he had sunk into her arms for support and reassurance.

The gentle, barely there press of Oliver's lips against her forehead helped ease the rest of the tension that had built up while he had been gone. Her hand, which had been resting just beneath his clavicle, rising and falling with each breath - assuring her that he had returned to her from the other side - drifted of its own accord.

She caressed the hard plane of his pecks, stopping just on the other side of his heart. Felicity could feel the rapid thrum of it as it slowed back to normal pace. The beat of Oliver's heart had become a familiar and beloved sensation. Most nights she fell asleep to the music of it with her head on his chest.

He whispered on a night not too long ago after she questioned if returning had been the right decision that "Each beat is for you." He had already dissuaded her if the notion that they made a mistake, and curled together after a long day, his words were a reminder that nothing would change what was between them.

Knowing that, feeling the steady reminder of it beneath her hand, made tackling whatever came next in terms of Sara, of their nighttime activities, his run for mayor, her responsibilities as CEO,  _everything_  - manageable.


	23. Selfish/less

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In his youth he took without consequence or thought. That behavior led him to Lian Yu and all that followed, swinging him from one extreme to the other. Ultimately both ends of that pendulum had hurt the people he loved most. A post-4.10 (Blood Debts) Oliver POV drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another late at night thought that wouldn’t leave me be.

It is a selfish thought and really it shouldn't surprise him, he's always been a selfish individual. And perhaps that had been one of the driving factors that allowed him to so easily give up parts of himself, to take reckless and desperate chances, to sacrifice so much for others ... in his youth he took without consequence or thought. That behavior led him to Lian Yu and all that followed, swinging him from one extreme to the other. Ultimately both ends of that pendulum had hurt the people he loved most.

During their time away, their "summer of love" as Felicity fondly termed it a month after their return to Star City he had managed to find a balance. Still when it came to her Oliver wanted to be _selfless_. He wanted to be able to give Felicity whatever she needed to be happy because her choosing him, being at his side and feeling the depth of her love with just a smile and soft touch gave him happiness and a peace he had never experienced before.

And now when faced with losing so much to a mission he'd drawn her into – no matter how many times she insisted that it was her life and her choice – _and of course it was_ , but vigilante support had not been choice to be made until he offered it to her. In the face of future where she could possibly never have full use of her legs again his thoughts had selfishly gone _there_. Oliver was certain if he wasn't damned to hell already for the decisions and actions he made this latest one, mounted on top of his all but abandonment of her to hunt after Darhk because of his instinct to run mixed with his need to do whatever was necessary to ensure Felicity's safety. All of it was just another reminder that he was not worthy of her.

He had always known that and it was one of the biggest reasons that he denied and fought his feelings for Felicity for so long. What kind of man, when learning that person they loved most in the world legs may be all but useless for the rest of her life lamented the fact that he would never feel them wrapped around his waist, clinging tight to him in the heat of passion?

Easy enough question to answer. _A selfish bastard_. It sickened Oliver that everything he been through, the horrific things he had endured and meted out hadn't scraped the last vestiges of Ollie Queen from him.

Felicity was so much more, meant so much more than that to him. While gorgeous, her appeal went so far beyond physical beauty and the pleasures of the body. She filled his heart, eased his soul and challenged his mind. She was the center of his world, the voice in his head assisting him in their mission and getting him home, and the guiding presence that protected his humanity.

And yet with _all_ of that Oliver could not deny that one of his favorite sensations was her legs encircling him, his hands cupping her lush bottom as their mouths plundered each other. It hurt to think that he may never feel Felicity locked around him like that again, as they pressed into each other trying to make two bodies one. He hated the mere possibility and loathed himself for even thinking about that when he should just be grateful that Felicity was alive.

He could have lost her. 

The world, _his life_ , without Felicity Smoak was his greatest fear. And it had been too close, too achingly close to being reality for his comfort.

He had Felicity; in every way that truly mattered, her mind and heart intact and that is what he loved most about her – what they all did. Her quick mind that had the worst (honestly best) ways of expressing things, a heart so big and forgiving that she put up with all of them, and certainty that allowed them all to don their masks and do what was needed to save their city without losing themselves.

To think of something so trivial, to miss it when had her and that was _all_ he needed … it was ridiculously selfish and he had to stop thinking about it, had to stop regretting its loss.

Instead Oliver told himself that he had to focus on what they still had. Nothing could mean more than the look of love and adoration in her eyes. And while he had always enjoyed the feel of her fingers laced through his, her soft palm resting against his calloused one, it had come to mean more over her stay in the hospital. So much so, that he automatically sought out her hand when he came into her room and often didn't let it go until he left, and even then he clung to it until the very last moment.

They were still intrinsically bound. Always would be. 

No matter what the future brought them, it was theirs for them to have together – _for better or worse_ – and Oliver was determined to shake this hopefully momentary bout of selfishness and see to it that they would have more of the for better.


	24. Guilt Arrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quick, little Oliver POV moment from 4.12 (Unchained).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oddly, this one little throwaway line "I've been running back and forth to Central City" is what really stuck with from last night's episode. I can almost seeing it running in a loop in Felicity's head when she learns about William. He was running back and forth to Central City, he wasn't lying about what he was doing, only about _why_ he was doing it and somehow that half-truth seems almost worse than a full on lie. No wonder Oliver feels guilty.

“Ollie, what you are thinking?” Laurel asked and he wondered if the remorse he felt deep inside his soul was apparent on his face. He could still feel the weight of his baby sister passed out in his arms. Though tiny, Thea had felt so heavy, or perhaps it was the responsibility he felt for her that had made her seem like lead.

Since the moment his parents had told him he was going to have a sibling Oliver had been beyond ecstatic, but nothing had compared to the first time he saw her, so small and perfect, as his father placed her in his quavering arms. “Be careful,” he had instructed, his voice rough with emotion, eyes gleaming with paternal adoration and pride. “It’s your job to love and protect her.”

It had only taken an instant to fall in love with his sister and for a fierce determination – to always be there to safeguard her – to take root inside of him. He’d said her name reverently, “ _Thea_ ,” and she shifted in his arms, moving closer to him, snuggling into his chest right under his heart.

For the longest time Thea was the most precious thing in the world to him, when little else had mattered, she was had always been there in his heart. His love for her his last tie to his humanity, one that proved to be unbreakable.

Because of that love he hadn’t gone completely dark and cold. There had been an ember left. One that had flickered back to life when they’d been reunited, and though his mother, Tommy, Laurel, and even Diggle had stoked it; it hadn’t truly caught fire again until Felicity.

He was on shaky ground there, actively lying to his fiancée, and now it seemed that other vital relationship he relied on was not on solid ground either … realizing that Oliver felt lost. He was supposed to keep them safe, he _needed_ them to be safe, and he was failing.

“That I should have done a better job of keeping an eye on her,” he finally replied turning from his team, afraid to let them see his weakness. He was meant to be strong for them. “She told me the bloodlust came back two months ago and I didn't even know.” He cringed slightly as he admitted to his inadequacy. Some brother I am, Oliver thought. “I've been focused on the campaign and I've been running back and forth to Central City and ...” he trailed off, releasing a jagged breath as the reason he'd been going there – _William_ – slammed into him. Thinking of his son made him want to smile. He was such an amazing kid. And, god, what he wouldn't give to share William with his family.

It was pointless to wish for it, so Oliver dismissed that selfish need and turned to face his team again. Of course his eyes were immediately drawn to Felicity. It always amazed him how just looking at her could help center him.

“How is it that you always manage to blame yourself for everything?” she asked, her cornflower eyes soft with concern for his well-being. He didn’t feel deserving of that empathy, not from any of them, but particularly from her. Not when his lie of omission would hurt her the most.

“That's his specialty,” John answered before he could even begin to frame a response. “ _Guilt_ Arrow.”

He was guilty of so much, Oliver knew. Not just in his past, but right now in the present. He doubted they all would be standing there with him, supporting him and sharing a moment of levity, if they knew the lie that had most recently burden him.


	25. Veritas Vos Liberabit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets had weight, but truth had consequences, and burdens taxing his soul – well that was something to which Oliver had grown accustomed. A look into Oliver's POV during that last scene in 4.13 (Sins of the Father).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There has been some mixed reaction in fandom to Oliver proposing marriage now even though Felicity still doesn’t know about William and how it taints everything and while I kind of get it … sweet Olicity moments will always be magical no matter what is hanging over them. Anyway, this is sort of my attempt to explain Oliver’s motivation.

Secrets had weight, but truth had consequences, and burdens taxing his soul – well that was something to which Oliver had grown accustomed. He’d been raised among lies: his sister's paternity, his father's fidelity, his own well-intentioned but broken promises to Laurel; they had all accumulated making the number of lies and half-truths impossible to count.

And there had always been ways to justify them. Reasons that felt valid or ultimatums beyond his control like with his most recent transgression. It wasn’t an outright lie, he’d told himself, but one of omission, much like Felicity helping the team over the summer. But the omission led to half-truths to disguise his travel to Central City and somehow he thought Felicity knowing that he went, just not the reason for it, made it seem if not acceptable, tolerable. He was providing her as much truth as he could given Samantha's demand and Barry's allusion that the news about William had not gone over well with his fiancée.

The truth had cost him Felicity in that timeline and that was not something he was willing to risk again.

Of course he had been flirting with it all along, Oliver had known that deep within himself, but just allowing himself to be with Felicity while donning his hood again was every bit as much of a risk. Their determination to save Star City in the light had proven that when Darhk had targeted him as Oliver Queen mayoral candidate and not as the Green Arrow.

Oliver thought he had everything under control, compartmentalized … safe even, but it all started unraveling with the attack on bay and accumulated beyond his greatest fear the moment when Malcolm Merlyn had dared to utter William’s name.

The monster that had cost him his father and best friend, his relationship with his mother, pieces of his sister’s soul, for a time Sara though even now she wasn’t fully herself, and had nearly ruined his relationship with Felicity knew about the only piece of his life he thought he had truly managed to find a way to protect.

Dread filled him, there was so much damage Malcolm could inflict with that knowledge, and still he’d chosen not to end his life. For himself as much as Thea, because death did not equate to justice, no matter how much easier and safer an option it would have been to choose.

He’d thought about finally sharing the truth about William with Felicity and unburdening himself when she reminded him yet again that she loved every part of him.

Except the liar, Oliver knew and giving her that truth now would not set him free, but take what, _who_ , he needed most. And god Oliver knew he was a hypocrite, valuing and expecting honesty from others, when he could not do the same.

It made everything worse, made him feel less than deserving of the people he loved. And yet, there was a vital truth he could share with her, the truth in his heart which she filled. So he asked her again, “Will you marry me?”

The way Felicity smiled, shaking her head slightly, as she lifted her hand to flash her engagement ring warmed him. Love and amusement was written on her luminous face, was in her voice when she replied, “I think I already answered that question.”

He knelt before her as he explained that he wasn’t proposing the notion of marriage sometime off in the not too distance future, but now, actually getting married. He wanted that, their life as husband and wife, it wasn’t only future he could imagine, but it was the only one he wanted. Them belonging to each other; that was the truth he could give her, give them.

And she’d been adorable, pondering his question then winking horribly before agreeing with an, “I’m in.”

He couldn’t not kiss her then or feel elated. What mattered most was right before him and they were moving forward into a future together. Oliver leaned forward and up as Felicity moved to meet him, her delicate hands coming up to cup his face as their lips met.

He prayed that this truth would be enough, that no action or inaction could taint it.


	26. Overwatch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little tease of my _Terminator_ with a slight twist inspired AU ... which I hope to have completed and posted sometime before the end of March. ETA: Link to the full story, [Fight the Future](http://archiveofourown.org/works/6319513).

Endless battles had weathered the man standing before him, leaving scars both physical – his missing left eye being the most evident – and psychological, though there wasn’t a solider under Slade Wilson’s command that hadn’t been wounded in some capacity by the war they’d been fighting. A war he feared humanity was going to be on the losing side of now that MG’s robotic soldiers loaded with the Overwatch program were in mass production, something they’d been fighting for years to prevent. The cybernetic machines never tired and were damn near impossible to put down. 

His home which had already been reduced to near uninhabitable rubble made up of crumbling structures folding in on themselves and a tangle of streets that were impassable if not traversed on foot with pockets of the city consumed by fires burning unchecked and a greasy, unnatural silvery sheen that had settled over the bay’s water like a thin layer of ice. Star City and its populace was dying, slowly and painfully, choking on acidic air and starving as the soil beneath their feet cracked and dried into lifeless dust. Oliver couldn’t help but feel that he was abandoning his brothers in arms when they needed him most.

The mission – to end the war – was one that Slade had been training him for since the day he had first claimed him, but the manner in which it was to be done felt too fantastical. Still if— _when_ , he corrected himself, when he was successful this dismal colorless world that was their life would never come to fruition. 

Pipedream or not, Slade was certain and Oliver was never one to overtly question his mentor. He followed his orders, suicide mission or not. By taking this leap, leaving the current field of battle, he could potentially save billions of lives. That possibility was the only thing that allowed him to stomach the thought of abandoning his makeshift family. 

Slade’s large, strong hand clamped hard over his shoulder. The heat of his palm bled through thin robe he wore, but the touch provided him no comfort, and soon even the flimsy piece of material would be discarded. Nothing he had been told would be able to travel through time with him. Oliver couldn’t help the bitterness he tasted in his mouth knowing that the fading and tattered photograph of his family would be denied him. He had the image memorized and could easily picture the contours of their faces when he closed his eyes, but for most of his life after – his life, like so many others, had be split between before Overwatch and after – cupping it between his hands had been his only comfort. 

His eyes drifted from Slade over to McKenna. As a solider the dark haired beauty was his most trusted ally, as a person she was his closet friend, and as a woman she was who he had sought solace in. There were times when he had felt guilty that he couldn’t offer her deeper feelings, but his heart had gone cold long before meeting her and McKenna Hall, bless her, was not one for sappy, overwrought sentiment. She had no use for it and was quite content with their friends with benefits relationship. Her dusty skin glowed in the drum barrel firelight and her dark eyes warmed when his lighter ones met them. She patted her uniform pocket assuring him that the precious cargo he entrusted to her was safe.

He gave her a gentle nod, one of thanks and goodbye before looking back to man who had stood as his surrogate father. Slade’s fingers dug into his shoulder, his single eye narrowed and neared black, as his gaze bored into him. “Whatever it takes, Kid. Get it done,” he ordered, his voice harsh with determination, thickening his Australian accent. 

His tone, the fierceness of his conviction radiated from him and burned into Oliver’s memory. This was the man to whom he owed his life … his after life and he would not fail him, his compatriots, or his family. He, Oliver Jonas Queen, would save the future.


	27. Lost & Found (E-ish)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Skipping the how of it … Oliver’s POV after he and Felicity reunite. Kind of, sort of smutty. Ish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is another patented middle of the night idea that wouldn’t leave me alone so I wrote it up on my cell phone. This is also my first foray into anything other than implied sexy times … so apologies on all counts.

“Mine,” he growled again for what could have been the hundredth time, his teeth nipping soft flesh before Oliver slid his tongue over it, soothing the erotic sting. He'd been frantic when they started, his hands greedy and desperate for the feel of her supple skin against his palms. He’d burned with need, making his movements jerky; just shy of violent as he tore at the last physical barriers between them.

Too much. There had been too much space between them since Felicity had walk out their home and away from him. _From them_.

The panic he felt at remembering that devastating moment made his next bite sharper and he froze momentarily, his tongue hovering, but he was spurred on again by Felicity's breathless moan – one soaked with pleasure – a sound he had to hear again. He had missed her noises, her reactions, but mostly he’d missed the feel her velvet skin moving against his own molted flesh. 

Oliver had craved the connection, both physical and emotional, between them – had yearned for her – during their weeks of separation. “Mine,” he whispered kissing his way up her torso.

In the back of mind he knew the only reason he could say that, could touch her again, the only reason Felicity was his at all – he was already hers, would _always_ be hers, and had been far longer than he could ever put into words – was because she gave herself to him. _Fully_. Not just her love, her gorgeous body, her brilliant mind, her brave soul, but the thing he had damaged most and which had nearly destroyed them: her trust.

That she had forgiven him, had found him worthy of another chance, Oliver wasn't certain he deserved it but he knew with every fiber of being that he was not going to allow his own doubtful sense of self-worth sabotage their relationship. Not again. This time he was going to be the man, _the partner_ , Felicity deserved.

He had once again made his way up her sweaty and primed form and after a gently nibbling on her right jaw Oliver lifted his head, brushed his nose against hers, and met her hooded eyes with his own. He had held them on the precipice for hours, torturing them both in the best possible way.

She moved lethargically, raising a hand to cup his cheek. He nuzzled onto her touch, kissed her palm and brought her hand to rest over his racing heart. "Yours," he all but purred the promise, causing her eyes to soften.

Her legs, her glorious shapely legs wrapped around him, drawing him into her. “Come home Oliver.”

Their lips crashed together as he plunged into her warmth, and he finally felt complete again, surrounded by Felicity – lost and found within the body and soul of the love of his life.


	28. Found My Salvation (In You)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Just a little introspection piece inspired by this quote from _X-Factor_ : "Salvation. That's what it is. _Salvation_. I shouldn't have to look outside myself to find it, but I do, and it's here, with her. For the first time in ages, I feel at peace with myself." (Jamie Madrox in regards to Layla Miller and it so aptly applies to Oliver and Felicity, as confirmed by the Legends of Yesterday quote: "Being with Felicity has given me a real sense of peace. Something that I haven't had in a long time." { _The Flash_ 2.8})

Playboy. Ne'er–do–well. Fuck-boy. These were terms that had applied to him before he stepped foot on the Gambit. He loved easily but not faithfully, treating all the good things life had to offer as things that were just expected to be there for him. Oliver Queen, heir apparent with too much given to him and yet a heavy sense of expectation had loomed over him – to be responsible for his family’s company, the over thirty thousand people who worked for them worldwide, to settle down with his longtime (though off and on girlfriend) because of the all women he’d dated Laurel mattered. Not enough to be better for, but enough that he could not picture his life without her in it somehow.

He’d been feckless and careless, completely clueless to what truly mattered in life.

A spoiled child unwilling and perhaps unable (his parents kept cleaning up his messes and giving him third and fourth chances without any named goals for him to meet) to grow up.

Lain Yu changed that. Changed him. He’d become a weapon. He wasn’t unfeeling; if anything his capacity to love made him feel every horrible decision he made to survive more deeply and what he felt strongest of all was self-loathing because he had endured.

He deserved nothing, and looking back on what he’d been – how he had been unable to appreciate everything that had been given to him, Oliver honestly felt he was unworthy of everything he had before and distrustful of any good thing that might come into his life.

It wouldn’t last, couldn’t last – every time he tried for just a little bit of it the worst happened. People. Good, decent people he cared about died. Yao Fei. Shado. Akio. Taiana. They were names etched across his heart; even those who’d come back to him like Sara and Slade were not the same. Because of him. And they just scratched the surface, there were all the other questionable people he killed – most of them were nameless or faceless – but their blood still stained his hands. A smear across his soul that could never be washed away.

Still he returned to Starling intent to fulfill his promise to this father. He had the will, the fortitude, and the desire to make his city – his home – better. To break it out of the shackles it didn’t even realize it had been bound in because the men who’d had cinched them in place had done so in such a slippery, opaque fashion.

His mission started out cold and calculated, his hands becoming drenched in yet another layer of blood. When he started Oliver had been convinced that it would end the same way, with his blood – his death. He would save his city, but not himself.

Never himself.

Then the most amazing and unexpected thing happened. Hope found him in the least likely of forms – John Diggle and Felicity Smoak. The solider and the hacker. A brother and a partner, in all things, though that was something he would slowly come to accept. He trusted again, believed in others outside himself, and found a better way to save not only his home, as he promised, but himself.

Together, they stitched him back together and filled in the chunks that life had taken out of him. With their help he integrated the disparate parts of himself, becoming whole again. More than just a weapon with a mission he was willing to die to achieve, but a man who wanted to live and do so much more with the life he was finally grateful to have again.

And in Felicity, in his love for her and hers for him, he’d found the one thing he never thought he would be granted.

_Salvation_.

Being with Felicity gave him a real sense of peace, a sensation that he hadn't had in a long time.


	29. Smooth Moves Over Cold Pizza

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A little 4.5 (aka hiatus) speculation. More a half formed thought then actual drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is **_all_** Lexi’s (alexiablackbriar13) fault. She started it with this: “CAN YOU IMAGINE ALL THE TROPEY FICS? SO MANY TROPES. SO MUCH OLICITY TENSION. I want ALL the cute scenes where they’re roommates and grocery shopping together and arguing over the type of cereal they buy and watching movies together and accidentally snuggling and falling asleep on the couch in each other’s arms, having nightmares and the other comforting them, BABYSITTING BABY SARA BECAUSE THAT HAS TO HAPPEN AT SOME POINT.” and I ran with it. This is quick and dirty, but not in the E rating sense.

They are sitting on the couch late one evening with baby Sara asleep between them eating cold pizza while Oliver bounces mayoral ‘stuff,’ has he often finds himself referring to the business of running a city when he’s tired and frustrated by the layers of red tape, off of Felicity when he just sort of accidentally, but completely meaning to, offers her a job since the board of Palmer Tech is being idiotic by not hiring her back.

Felicity eyes narrow and he can see her fighting back the use of her Loud Voice because of a sleeping Sara. “I thought we established that I am not EA material Oliver.” Her tone is biting; her teeth clack together as she stresses each and every word as she says them. Her eyes have darkened to a shade near indigo in indignation.

Oliver actually throws up his hands, shaking them in sync with is head. “No, no, _no_ ,” he says getting a little louder with each denial. And they both freeze when baby Sara stirs. They hold their breaths until she settles and Oliver’s tense frame sags slightly in relief. “I need a _partner_ in my day job as much as my night and there is no one better Felicity.” Those words sparked Felicity to do that amazingly adorable thing where she bites her bottom lip before she starts to smile, and nothing is a beautiful as the delight that washes over her face.

It’s enormous what she’s feeling because that’s all she’s ever wanted in her relationship with Oliver; for their partnership in their nighttime activities - not those kind of _activities_ she scolds herself as she does her level best best not to picture their naked bodies tangled together, her cheeks going pink - to translate into the other aspects of their lives together. To know that Oliver trusts and relies on her, that she can do the same, and that on the big things, on the stuff that really matters, they’ll make a plan _together_ on how to deal with them.

She knows that they’re just sitting there in the Diggle living room, baby Sara tucked between them, beaming at each other because it is a perfect moment; or very nearly since the fact that John and Thea aren’t here in Star City has been erased from her mind. She feels content and so comfortable with Oliver that they’re actually breathing together. At the same time is too much. It’s too soon. And while it’s everything she wants Felicity isn’t quite ready to accept that they can have it all again. They’d rushed into it last time, jumping in blindly; so in love that they could not see the pitfalls awaiting them.

She’d stood on a mine before - literally and metaphorically - and the latter had nearly destroyed her. Destroyed them. And they are too important to make a misstep like that again. So instead of falling into where this moment could lead, though kissing Oliver again would be so fantastic, she pulls back and grabs herself another slice of pizza. “You’re responsible for getting the coffee,” she tells him before taking a bite.

Oliver can’t help the quick flash disappointment and longing that shudders through him. He’d sensed the possibility hovering there between them, but they’re in such a better place now and with each new day things were getting a little more like how it used to be. Beyond that Felicity is worth the wait. So he chuckles and brushes a curl out of Sara’s face as he leans back into the couch. “Any other demands Miss Smoak?” his tone flirtatious, making Felicity squirm ever so slightly.


	30. What is Lost Can be Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ship of the Year voting contribution drabble.

The things he misses surprises Oliver. They were little pieces of knowledge about Felicity Smoak, particular quirks that even their team was unaware of, that professed she was his as much as he was hers. It is the loss of these things that make Oliver ache even as they inch closer to being the friends and partners they’d started out as - it was more than he could have hoped for after she left him holding his ring in the bunker they'd built for their team, but still not enough because the love he felt for her refused to dim. Even now without any chance of a romantic relationship he only loved her more ... for staying, for offering her support to both Mayor Oliver Queen and the Green Arrow, and just for being who she was, his guiding light.

Jogging back to the postage sized apartment he'd rented after taking office on Saturday mornings after his run - he could have roughed it out in their battered headquarters but not having an even semi-permanent address would have aroused too much suspicion - and not coming home to the scent and taste of scorched eggs twisted his heart. That Felicity had continued to try after each failed endeavor was a reminder of how much effort she had put into them.

Startling awake to her icy feet pressing into his calves, a deliberate move on Felicity's part, on the rare occasions she woke before him. So few people teased him, but she never shied away from an opportunity. It made him, _them_ , feel normal; not a distant returned castaway or an unapproachable vigilante but simply Oliver.

Her unique mating call after they had a disagreement. Her lilting voice ringing out over the beat of the shower, singing some naughty limerick. Hearing those words come from her mouth always caused his blood to spike and want to flood him. It wouldn't matter who'd been in the wrong, only that she was ready for them to makeup without the use of conversation. Instead they would apologize with the stroke of hands, nips of teeth, and surrounding each other inside and out. Felicity inherently understood that he didn't always have words and that in some cases he needed action; he adored how she could revel in his ability to show her how he felt in those instances.

These pieces were like a phantom limb, he felt them there with him, even though she wasn't and it made it impossible for him let her go as she had requested. He had tried, because it was Felicity and she had asked it of him, but she was ingrained into his very marrow. She had taken up residence in his mind, heart, body, and soul - Oliver would deny the cheesy sentiment that she completed him, because a person had to be whole on their own - but she had made him better, shown him the best version of himself and that man was so much easier to be with Felicity at his side, an integral part of every facet of his life.

He missed these things, and so many of the other aspects of the life they had built together, until the day Felicity confessed that she missed him too and was ready to try again.

They hadn't leapt like before. They took their time coming back together, even keeled and always on the same page, but the missing had stopped that day. It shifted to sweet anticipation.

He got the limerick back first. The first time they made love after deciding to try again.

Three weeks later, the morning after their first sleepover back in the loft that had been their home he'd awoken to cold feet.

It wasn't a Saturday, but one pretty May day months after they had begun again and in the wake of the team preventing yet another citywide disaster he had limped back home, the home they were once again sharing, to the welcomed scent of overcooked eggs.

Upon entering the kitchen Oliver found a disheveled Felicity standing next to the stove, his mother's ring on the counter beside it, next to a plated crispy omelet. "I figured it was my turn to ask," she started, but that was as much as he let her get out before claiming her lips with his own. Between peppering each other with wanton kisses they both kept repeating, "Yes."

It was not just a 'yes I'll marry you' declaration, but a 'yes, I will always choose you' promise.


	31. The Fruit Basket Incident

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Or how Felicity Smoak decides that she needs to break up with Billy Malone, a S5 point-what-point? drabble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No idea where this came from, other than the need to show that Felicity has something other than Team Arrow work and a boyfriend happening in her life.

"What's up with the fruit bouquet?" Thea's strong but bewildered voice jarred Felicity out of laser-like focus on her work. Her fingers paused over her keyboard while the code she'd been working on continued to write itself in her head.

The deep red peacoat the younger woman wore was a vibrant contrast to the plain beige walls that surrounded them. The tiny office Felicity rented in the shared facility was little more than four walls smashed between a floor and ceiling with a door that locked. She had done nothing to personalize the space outside of bringing in her own desk chair and seeing to it that she had her own secure network line. The rented office was a quiet delineator between her home, Team Arrow’s workspace and the consulting she was doing on the side to pay her bills. The complex that housed it offered her 24-hour access, which came in handy with her schedule, and gave her a place where her focus could solely be on creating something while not being surrounded by reminders of all she had lost or forfeited.

Walter had been her first referral, he’d come to her the day after the board of Palmer Technologies very publicly removed her as CEO with a client of the rebranded Star City Bank desperately in need of a security upgrade. He felt that there was no one better to handle it for them. It and the next few jobs he funneled her way felt like charity, but it had been such a needed and rewarding escape from her own thoughts. Not to mention a valid excuse to take a break from working side-by-side with Oliver to rebuild the bunker that she had taken them regardless.

Her fast, comprehensive and expert work earned her a loyal core who recommended her so frequently that Felicity was actually directing work that held little interest or challenge to her to others. There was something satisfying about being seen once again as an expert in her field of study, though she missed the variety of the unexpected complications that popped up during her days as PT's CEO.

Her periwinkle eyes shifted from an adorably confused Thea to the arrangement of fruit on her desk. Felicity's nose scrunched as she took in artfully placed slices of honeydew, cantaloupe, and pineapple that dominated the display. "It was a gift."

Thea scoffed, not so much at her words Felicity was certain, but her own perplexed tone. Gift implied that some thought of who was on the receiving end of the giving was thought of; the orange pail studded with not quite ripe fruit was not an item the screamed Felicity Smoak. The only appealing aspect of the unexpected delivery as far as she was concerned was the too few chocolate covered strawberries and trio sticks of red grapes that dotted the lettuce wrapped fruit. And seriously who'd come up with idea of encasing fruit in a vegetable?

"I guess your grateful client didn't know that you're a junk food girl," Thea remarked as she snagged a partially dipped in chocolate pineapple flower with a cantaloupe center. Felicity pouted a bit as her friend bit into a chocolate laced edge. The chocolate had been good when she sampled a strawberry and she’d been contemplating sucking off the dark shell encasing the offending fruit before pitching it. The only thing that stopped her was the thought of wasting food, which is why she’d been deliberating with herself as to whether or not she should leave the basket in the shared kitchen space for all to share.

"Guess not," she agreed as her fingers began moving again. They clacked over keys swiftly in an effort to catch up with the code in head. Thea munched on her pilfered flower while Felicity finished her work. Her lunch date was a few minutes early so she didn't feel bad for making her wait, but Felicity couldn't stop Thea’s comment from circling in her head.

A client. Thea had assumed that someone who barely knew her sent a thank you gift. It wasn't a bad assumption because a fruit basket was the kind of thing you sent to a person you didn't know. It was not; however, a present you sent someone you were sleeping with and Felicity wasn't certain if Billy's selection said something about him as a person or about _them_. Not that she thought of the two of them as a couple. She could barely admit to dating him out loud and choked on the word boyfriend, she continually flinched any time he was referenced as such by one of her friends.

If his to be sweet, just because gift was any indication Billy Malone didn’t even rate a friend with benefits moniker. Rather he was just another thing to distract herself with - and not a very good one as she all too often found herself making comparisons, ones that always found him lacking. Sharing her big green working secret with him was not sharing herself. The completely un-her gift taking up space on desk proved to Felicity that she wasn't allowing Billy to know her, nor was she trying all that hard to know him.

The mismatched offering finally allowed her to admit that that she really didn't want to either. She was tired of distractions and using them to hide the turmoil churning within her. It was doing her little to no good and was actually making her feel worse. Something Felicity didn’t think was possible after her breakup with Oliver and Havenrock.

Saving her work before shutting down her tablet Felicity made a mental list of what came next. She’d go to lunch with Thea has planned before swinging by the police department to end her … she wasn’t even comfortable calling it a relationship. Her _thing_ , she’d end her thing with Billy and take the rest of the afternoon to brood with some mint chocolate chip ice cream. She would allow herself to start feeling those emotions she’d been burying for so long. Maybe once she had then she’d be able to move beyond the awkward limbo she had trapped herself in.


	32. the markings only she sees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity Smoak has a gift or more of a curse; she is able to see the truth about people written on their skin -- details both innocuous and insightful. (Inspired by a summary I read of Adelia Saunders's Indelible.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a quick and dirty rehash of Olicity’s meet-cute in honor of Lexi’s birthday. I am a horrible wifey for not realizing until yesterday when her birthday is – the true test of my sieve-like mind will be if this happens again next year.

There are certain things that you never want or need to know about other people, things that they rather not share or even admit to themselves, unfortunately hidden truths were something easily discernible to her. Written on their skin, bold and often prominently placed, these invisible tattoos were perceptible to her eyes. Often times those unseen facts people wore on their bodies came in handy. The **PERV** in thick, capital letters scrawled diagonally across the neck of Martin Jones in accounting prepared her for the epic amount of porn that had crashed his computer and saved her from his attempted ass pinch when she’d gone to fix it. In other instances, such as the tiny binary code wrapped around her father’s wrist, grey numerals that had mesmerized her as a child as she watched him work and had translated into heartbreaker, hadn’t made sense until after he’d abandoned his family. Still that lesson had not been enough for her to heed the italicized warning – _dangerous_ – stamped on Cooper’s chest.

Since the fallout of his brash use of her so called super virus Felicity had been better about taking the truths offered on people’s skin to heart. It made her circle of friends small and gave her a reputation around the office of the sad, loner geek but it saved her from having to experience any more emotionally wrenching pain and had the additional benefit of eliminating the aggravation of having to put up with catty gossips like her boss’s admin Raquel.

She was busy multi-tasking, her favorite red pen clamped between her teeth to keep her hands free, allowing her to switch easily from keyboard to leafing through the paper files on her desk when she heard a soft, “Ahem.” A silky masculine voice asked, “Felicity Smoak?” as she spun in her chair towards the unexpected intrusion to her day. “Hi,” he continued as their gazes met. “I'm Oliver Queen.”

It was not that fact that Oliver Queen -- recently returned from being thought dead and son of the company for which she worked founder -- was standing in her office looking even more handsome in person than he did in the photographs splashed across all the city’s papers that threw Felicity for a loop. Actually that would have been enough to flabbergast her if she wasn’t used to seeing random truths about people embossed on their skin. No, what made her pause and look at him with widening eyes as she removed the pen from her mouth was the jagged word centered on his forehead: _vigilante_.

The only thing the Starling City news loved to cover more than Oliver Queen’s miraculous return in recent days was the appearance of a hooded crime fighter the police referred to as The Vigilante. So far the press had stuck with that name but Felicity figured it would not be long before another was coined for the mysterious figure.

Or not so mysterious, she thought, and before the silence could get awkward she nervously uttered, “Of course I know who you are. You're Mr. Queen.”

“No,” he drew the word out in an exaggerated manner, his brow lifting, obscuring the word written across it. “Mr. Queen was my father.”

“Right,” she agreed. Felicity meant to leave it at that, she really did, but she’d never learned to keep hold of her tongue. She often blurted out the thoughts in her head without meaning to, an embarrassing trait she picked as a child so she wouldn’t remark on things she learned by reading people’s skin. “But he's dead.” Her harsh sounding statement of fact made Felicity shake her head and she tried a quick course correct, “I mean, he drowned.” Her mouth continued to ignore the ‘Not Helping’ sign flashing in her mind’s eye. “But you didn't.” Felicity noticed Oliver’s stubble-lined throat bob at that and tried to stop herself, but the words just kept coming, “Which means you could come down to the IT department and listen to me babble.” That last part was shaded with the hint of the distress she felt as she tapped her pen against her desk. “Which will end,” she declared, more as a promise to herself, than to the man standing in front of her fighting what looked to be amusement.  “In 3 … 2 ... 1.” Felicity puffed her cheeks slightly as she caught her bottom lip between her teeth to physically stop herself from speaking more.

Standing there in all his absurdly handsome glory, his eyes all the bluer for the dark gray sweater that stretched deliciously across his broad chest, Oliver Queen had the decency to ignore her assault by word count and instead offered her a crooked little smile as he brought his hands from behind his back. “I'm having some trouble with my computer and they told me that you were the person to come and see.” He held out the damaged laptop expectantly. A mangled piece of technology, one as severely abused as the laptop in his large hands, would normally anger Felicity. She felt the prick of that emotion, but it was overshadowed by the shock of seeing her own name, _Felicity_ , in flowing red cursive – in writing that looked suspiciously like her own – on Oliver’s left hand, just below the line of his knuckles.

When she didn’t immediately reach for it Oliver placed the machine on the edge of her desk. Needing to take her eyes off his hand so she could think, Felicity leaned over the laptop and ran her fingers over the holes maligning it. “I was at my coffee shop surfing the web,” he explained, “and I spilt a latte on it.”

Her gaze shot up from the holes to Oliver’s face at his terrible, far-fetched lie. “Really?” she challenged her disbelief evident in her dry tone.

“Yeah,” he offered with a nervous blink and shuffling of his feet.

The fact that her name was inexplicably drawn on his hand no longer had her tongue tied. What she wondered, would be his response if she questioned his ridiculous declaration? Considering the word she’d seen on his brow Felicity was fairly certain she knew what caused the rounded cavities and said as much. “These look like bullet holes.”

“My coffee shop is in a bad neighborhood,” he replied sticking to his fib. Finding the play oddly charming, Felicity titled her head and continued to challenge Oliver with her gaze. He gave only a little, chuckling lowly before asking with a half-smile, “If there is anything that you can salvage from it, I would really appreciate it.”

It was the earnest way in which a man painted as a frivolous playboy said that he’d appreciate her assistance that won her over. Instead of brushing him off or asking him more pointed questions Felicity made an, “Mm-hmm,” sound as she nodded her assent. Nothing else was said between them as she picked up the machine and got to work on trying to revive it.


End file.
